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7 

THE 

Tell-Tale Watch 

FROM THE GERMAN OF GEORGE HOOKER 

By Meta De Vere. 

ILLUSTRATED BY JAMES FAGAN. 



A New Translation from Balzac. 


LOVE 

(L’ Envers de 1’ Histoire Contemporaine.) 

a NoncL 

FROM THE FRENCH OF 

HONORE DE BALZAC. 

TRANSLATED BY 

FRANCIS H. SHEPPARD, U. S. N. 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY F. A. CARTER. 

12mo. 300 Fagres. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 
Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


This is an admirable translation of one of the most refined and 
spiritual books in any language. It deals with love, but that great 
passion is embodied in the souls of men and women who suffered 
the great trials and afflictions which overtook the victims of the 
first French Revolution. The principal characters belong to the 
old aristocracy of France, who escaped only with their lives, to 
enact the role of ministers of charity in the very place where had 
stood the guillotine, and to the people who had clamored for their 
blood. This novel should be read in connection with “The 
Country Doctor,” as it is written on the same general lines, al- 
though it reaches a greater moral altitude, and portrays more in- 
tense and tragic circumstances. No one can possibly understand 
Balzac without reading this story. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. Wili.iam and Spruce Streets, New York. 




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A BRILLIANT NOVEL. 


ROMANCE OF TROUVILLE 

51 Noucl. 


TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF 

BREHAT, 

BY 

META DE VERE, 

T ranslator of Mademoiselle Desrochesf etc. 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY WEOHSLER. 

12mo. 329 Pages. Handsomely Botind in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 
Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


This is a characteristic story of life in a brilliant French water- 
ing-place. It gives an admirable picture of the amusements, the 
frivolities, the intrigues, rivalries and jealousies of the fashionable 
people gathered there from all parts of the world. It is full of 
life, color and excitement. In stories of this kind French writers 
are without rivals in England or America. The hero of the story 
is a dashing French officer belonging to the old aristocracy of 
France. The heroine is a beautiful girl of French and English 
parentage. The course of the story develops situations both sur- 
prising and amusing. The movement is brisk and the incidents 
natural and vivacious. The interest never halts, and the story is 
entirely pure and delightful from beginning to end. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York, 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 




THE TELL-TALE WATCH 

(Der Lebende hat Recht.) 


31 NotJel. 


FROM THE^G^MAN OF 

GEORGE HOCKER 




BY 


META DE VERE. 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY JAMES 

^OCl 20 1833 ^ 




NEW YORK: 

ROBERT BONNER’S S 

PUBLISHERS. 


washV 


ONS, 



THE CHOICE SERIES . ISSUED SEMI-MONTHLY. SUBSCRIPTION PRIck, TWELVE DOLLARS PER ANNUM. NO* 96, 
OCTOBER 16 1S93 ENTERED AT THE NEW YORK, N. Y., POST OFFICE AS SECOND CLASS MAIL MATTER* 




Copyright, 1893, 

By KOBERT BONNER’S SONS. 

FROM “ NOVELLEN-SCHATZ,” VOL. 32. PUBLISHED BY S. ZICKEL, 

129 DUANE St., New York. 


(Alt rights reserved.) 


1 



THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


CHAPTER I. 

“ Watchman ! Watchman !” 

Fearfully the call re-echoed through the silent 
winter night, but often as it was repeated, it did not 
reach the ears of the man in his thick cloak, who. 
was leaning against one of the tall stone pillars that 
formed the entrance to a small garden. Unmindful 
of the constant downpour of raindrops, mingled with 
snowflakes, he seemed to be able to sleep in a stand- 
ing posture, for he never stirred. 

“ Watchman ! Watchman !” the call came again ; 
it sounded nearer and clearer. 

The next moment a tall man, also wrapped in a 
heavy cloak, came with a powerful but elastic step 
down the aristocratic, quiet Neander Street, in Sea- 

[7] 


8 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


ton, a suburb of Cologne, virtually a part of the 
great city. He was evidently greatly excited, and 
looked on either side to see if somewhere help 
might be attainable. Now he turned into Louis 
Street, and here he discovered the watchman who, 
overcome by sleep, had sunk down at the foot of the 
pillar. 

“ Watchman ! Watchman !” he shouted. “ Don’t 
you hear?” 

“Thunder and lightning! Don’t I hear? Can’t 
a man take his little nap undisturbed ?” growled the 
sleeper, stretching his stiffened limbs. Then he 
passed his thick fur glove over his eyes, and looking 
around, still half dazed, he continued : “ I whistled 
at one o’clock, as is my duty, and it can’t be much 
more now !” 

The other man had, in the meantime, come close 
up to him. His broad fur collar, however, covered 
his face so completely that the watchman, still but 
half awake, could see but little, even if the rain and 
snowflakes had not made the night loo dark to see 
anything. 

“ I did not ask you what time it is,” said the gen- 
tleman, who was evidently anxious to get away, 
“ but a great misfortune seems to have happened. 
In Neander Street, near a newly-built house, there is 
a man lying — dead, I think. I saw him as I passed 
by and called for you. You had better go to look. 
It may be a bad accident !” 

“ In Neander Street?” asked the man, now fully 
awake. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


9 


“ Yes, yes! Near the corner ! You cannot miss 
him !” 

“A man, you say, and at this hour?” asked the 
watch man, eying the stranger suspiciously. “ A man 
unconscious in the snow ? Ah I dare say he is 
drunk !” 

“No, I fear something has happened there!” said 
the gentleman, as he moved away. “ I have done 
my duty. Make haste to do yours now !” 

“ You had better come along with me. How can^ 
I find anything in this darkness?” 

“ I have no time ; besides, you cannot miss it ; 
close by the new building a lantern is hanging, and 
it shines right down upon the man in the snow,” 
and then the stranger, who evidently belonged to 
the upper classes of society, hastened away. 

The man looked after him, shaking his head and 
grumbling under his breath. “ I certainly had fallen 
asleep and dreamed I was at home, and mother was 
— and now I must trot. It is weather for dogs 
and cats, but not for honest men. It is raining and 
snowing at once — well, it will be a nice state of 
things to-morrow morning !” 

He warmed his feet by stamping violently, and 
then set out for Neander Street, turning the corner. 
At once he saw the miserable, dim, flickering oil- 
lamp. As he approached he saw how the raindrops 
were unceasingly dashing against the sides of the 
lamp, while the snowflakes hugged the panes for a 
while, till they melted and fell to the ground. 

“Here is the new building!” he murmured to 


10 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


himself and opened his eyes wide, “ but 1 see no 
man lying here. There is nothing here!” 

Two, three times he walked up and down before 
the unfinished building, which was under roof, but 
still encased in its scaffolding, and diligently looked 
around. 

“ Eh ! Has anybody fallen down here?” he cried 
hoarsely. No answer came, although he repeated 
his call ; the echo of his own voice was all that came 
back from the empty shell of the building. 

A blackguard of a fool I” he exclaimed, in very 
bad humor, “ he comes from his punch-bowl and his 
merry company, while we poor devils have to walk 
up and down the empty streets all night long. 
Little does such a man know how tired we feel !” 

Thus growling and scolding he slowly returned 
to his post. Carefully wrapped up in his warm 
cloak, he leaned against the same familiar stone 
pillar, that sh^tered him a little from the biting 
North wind ; after awhile his head sank mechani- 
cally, lower and lower, and soon he was nodding 
again, overcome with drowsiness. 

Gradually the rain ceased, but now the snow- 
flakes came down, denser and denser, as the pale 
light in the East proclaimed the early dawn; but 
little of the snow remained. From afar the regular 
strokes of a church bell announced the hours; it 
struck five and no one yet stirred; the watchman 
was still standing and nodding at his post. 

Slowly and wearily the gloaming increased; in 
the trembling twilight the snowflakes looked unnat- 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


11 


urally large ; and a raven who had roosted in one 
of the old trees, rose croaking, and with heavy wings 
sailed away in search of a warmer resting-place. 

Now the watchman stirred; he beat his breast 
with his arms to start the sluggish blood into activ- 
ity ; ‘ then he yawned. “What a foolish trick that 
was in the night!" he said, as he remembered the 
warning of the unknown man, which turned out to 
have had no foundation. “ A man, he said, was ly- 
ing unconscious in the snow. This is a cursed cold, 
and, to be sure, just as I thought, as smooth and slip- 
pery as a mirror — however — I dare say, I had better 
— in this weather — yes, 1 ’ll have to make the rounds. 
If the captain finds out that I have not been 
around once to-night, — there will be the Devil’s 
Tattoo !’’ 

With cautious steps he walked down the street 
till he reached the corner, and here he turned into 
Neander Street. It was a street like many others. 
The tremulous twilight showed here and there ele- 
gant villas. In the gardens that separated them 
from the road cypress trees were growing; the snow- 
laden branches hanging sadly down to the ground. 
Statues here and there stood shivering on their mar- 
ble pedestals, and a pretty little group, representing 
Hans and Gretchen under an umbrella, which ordin- 
arily served as a fountain, now looked absolutely 
suffering in this fiercely cold weather. 

Once more the watchman was standing in front of 
the new building; the lamp had long since suc- 
cumbed to the dawning light. 


12 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ There is no trace here of anything that could 
have happened,” said the man, looking at a clear 
space, where the snow had apparently been swept 
away for some purpose. Unconsciously his eyes 
followed the tracks, which continued into the new 
building, that was but imperfectly protected by a 
few loose planks. One of these looked as if it had 
been removed. As he drew nearer he noticed a tall 
gray hat with a mourning band,' lying close by the 
fence, in an opening which no doubt was intended 
to become a show-window. 

“ By the great Satan ! This looks after all as if 
something had happened!” he cried, and picked up 
the hat, which was new and apparently uninjured. 
Then he bent over the window-frame to look inside. 

Instantly he started back, let the hat drop from 
his trembling hands, and his weather-beaten, hard 
and rugged face looked as if he had been frightened 
unto death. “ All Holy Spirits bless me I” he ex- 
claimed, and then stared once more down into the 
deep excavation. 

The morning light was barely strong enough to 
let him recognize the form of a man, who was lying 
stretched out at full length and motionless, on the 
ground, covered with blood. 

“ Great Heavens ! What a calamity ! My friend, 
if you have any life left in you, here is somebody 1” 
he cried, and then he was frightened by the echo of 
his own voice, which alone broke in upon the un- 
canny silence. He has had enough,” he continued ; 
“ it is no use to try to help that man !” and retreated 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


13 


into the street, casting anxious and bewildered 
glances at the darkness below. 

Then he started on a fast trot. “ I must report 
this at once ! The stranger was right after all ! The 
devil ! why did 1 not look more closely ! Well, a 
man cannot be in two places at once ! Our duties 
are hard enough, and wages are wretchedly low !” 

When he reached the nearest police-office, where 
he had to make his report, he candidly confessed 
that he had not believed the stranger, because he 
thought he was trying to “ fool ” him, and besides 
“ walking on the slipper}^ ice is mighty dangerous 
for an elderly man,” he added. 

At once the matter was reported to Headquarters 
in the city proper, while two policemen were dis- 
patched with the watchman to the place where the 
dead man was lying. 

The day promised to be a severe winter day, dark- 
ened by dense snow-clouds and swept over by fierce 
blasts and heavy, driving snow storms. A sleigh 
came dashing up, and several men got out before 
the unfinished house. One of them, a tall, intelli- 
gent looking man of some thirty years, whose rosy 
face was set in a frame of a full black beard, 
approached one of the policemen, and said : ‘‘ I am 
Mr. Molitor, Commissary of Police ; is the Justice 
here ?” 

“ No,” replied the man ; “ he has been here and 
is to be sent for when wanted.” 

“ Well, then, let one of you go for him !” ordered 
the Commissary, and turning to the watchman, he 


14 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


asked him: “You made the first report, did you 
not ?” 

The watchman nodded, and then most circum- • 
stantially narrated everything; dwelling very fully 
upon the hardships of his duty and the self-sacrifice 
he had made on this occasion. 

The Commissary ordered the hat to be carefully 
laid aside, and then, taking a step nearer to the 
place where the dead man was lying, he bent over 
the opening. 

“ The poor man has fallen from a considerable 
height,” he said, drawing back again ; “from what 
1 see, it was not an accident, for the wall here is 
three feet high and a man cannot well fall over it 
into the cellar; besides, the building seems to have 
been protected by planks.” 

“That is so. Commissary,” said the watchman. 
“ Last night it was all in order ; I can vouch for that.” 

An elderly man, who wore spectacles, and who 
had come in the same carriage with the Commissary, 
now approached the group, and said : 

“ It seems to me advisable that we should all of 
us get down into the cellar, to ascertain the injuries 
received by the unfortunate man. I have an appoint- 
ment in court at half-past ten and cannot stay long.” 

“Certainly, Doctor,” said the Coroner; “we will 
do at once what you wish.” Then he sent for a lad- 
der and had it put down inside of what was to be a 
show-window. 

In the meantime the Justice had also come and 
now joined the others. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


15 


The Commissary was the first on the ladder. With 
youthful elasticity he descended quickly, while the 
Justice and the Coroner followed more carefull3\ 
The space below appeared littered up with building 
material of all kinds. Alread}^, while getting down, 
the Commissary had pointed at spots here and there, 
saying : 

“Here is blood and here again. The poor man, 
in falling, must have knocked against some pro- 
jections in the wall.” When he reached the bottom, 
his eye fell upon a number of matches, that had been 
used and lay scattered about. “ They look as if 
they had been used quite recently, in fact not many 
hours ago — can it be that they were the dead man’s 
property ?” 

The Coroner, who had at once gone up to the 
dead body, made no answer. “ That is out of the 
question,” he said, after a long pause. “ That man 
has used no matches down here ; just look at these 
fearful, perfectly heart-rending wounds !” 

“ Is the man surely dead ?” asked the Commissar}*, 
as he also came to look at the corpse. 

The coroner merely nodded while kneeling down 
cautiously by the dead man. “Some hours!” He 
then said, “ The rigor mortis is plainly visible. The 
injuries are simply fearful! The whole skull is 
crushed and the brain is scattered all over the cel- 
lar. He must have fallen with tremendous force,” 
he added, pointing at the back of the head of the 
man, who was lying on his face. Then he gave 
orders to have the body turned, noticing at the time 


16 


thp: tell-tale watch. 


that the blood-bespattered clothes showed the vic- 
tim to have belonged to the upper classes of society. 

At the moment when the pale, fearfully disfigured 
face of the black-bearded man became visible, the 
watchman, who had remained standing on one of 
the upper rungs of the ladder, uttered a short cry of 
horror. 

All faces were instantly turned up at him. 

“Well? Do you know the man?” asked the 
Commissary. 

“ I do,” replied the man, who seemed to be 
beside himself. “ I cannot be mistaken ! That is 
Wigan, the great banker. That villa over there is 
his ; he lives there in the summer. Oh, what a 
calamity !” 

“ Banker Wigan,” asked the Commissary, frown- 
ing darkly. “ The man who has the great banking- 
house in Kaiser Street?” 

“ Exactly,” answered the watchman. 

After a long pause the Justice said : “ It is prob- 
ably an accident.” 

The Coroner shrugged his shoulders. He had 
carefully examined, first the dead man himself, and 
then the spots of blood that adhered in places to 
the wall-projections. “ The position of the body 
is a very peculiar one,” he continued, “ and all the cir- 
cumstances lead me to the impression that the poor 
man cannot have accidentally fallen into the cellar. 
First of all : How did he get here, inside of the 
planks, with which the place was fenced in ? Then, 
a falling man invariably stretches out his arms to 



“YOU KNOW MORE! YOU KNOW IT ALL!”— See Chapter II J. 









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THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


17 


protect himself; while this man is lying on his face, 
with his hands under him — and yet his face is not 
injured as one would expect ! He evidently fell 
first on the back of his head and literally smashed 
it, as you see. I am inclined to think a dead man 
was thrown down into the cellar.” 

He paused a moment, looking intently at the face 
of the dead ma 

“This is strange indeed!” he then added, in an 
undertone. “ He has evidently been shamefully ill- 
treated while yet alive.” 

All the bystanders started once more and the 
excitement grew higher and higher. 

“ Why I think so, you ask,” he said to the Justice, 
who had instantly knelt down by the side of the 
Coroner to study the dead man’s face. “Nothing 
can be simpler! Look here; these broad, bloody 
looking welts across the face are evidently traces of 
heavy blows which the dead man received before 
he was cast down here, alive or dead — who will say ? 
However, there are so many possibilities in this 
case, that it will be hard to decide, unless light is 
thrown upon the event by other witnesses. The poor 
man may, to suggest but one, have been trying to 
escape from a murderous attack ; he may not have 
seen this ominous opening in the dark of the night, 
and may thus have fallen backward.” 

“Then you suspect a crime ?” asked the Justice 
eagerly, his manly, fair features betraying deep 
inner emotion. 

The Coroner gave no direct answer. “ Of course. 


18 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


we shall all have to wait for the autopsy, which will 
naturally be ordered, although the cause of death is 
patent,” pointing at the broken back of the man’s 
head. “ But how death came about, no one can tell, 
as yet. Thisskull may show the effectsof brutal blows, 
or it may have been broken by the sharp projections 
in the wall. The body must at once be sent to 
the Morgue.” He looked at his watch. “ I regret I 
cannot stay here any longer; however, you do not 
need my presence now.” 

The Justice bowed courteously. “ I shall see 
to it. Coroner, that the body is taken directly to the 
Morgue,” he added. 

The Coroner took leave and somewhat slowly 
climbed up the steep ladder. 

Now only the Justice found words to express his 
great sorrow. “ There can be no doubt,” he said 
in an undertone, “ it is Banker Wigan. Such an 
excellent family ! What a terrible calamity !” 

“ Did you know the deceased?” 

“ Oh, very well. We have played many a game 
of whist in his villa in the summer, but I cannot 
remember ever having seen Mr. Wigan out here 
during winter-time; and what could he have had to 
do here in the depth of night ? His villa is unoccu- 
pied, and not even a watchman is kept there.” 

“ Let us hope,” said his friend, “ that the autopsy 
and the regular inquiries will throw some light upon 
this mysterious accident.” 

The Commissary, in the meantime, knelt down by 
the body, and was at work examining the pockets. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


19 


“ This is very, very strange!” he suddenly ex- 
claimed, turning to the policeman, who was assisting 
his superior. “ The deceased must have been a rich 
man !” 

“ Certainly,” replied the other; “everybody in 
town will tell you how rich a man was Mr. Wigan.” 

“ Well, then it is all the more remarkable that no 
money of any kind can be found on the body. There 
is no watch and no chain. He has neither purse 
nor pocket-book, and all I can find is this ring, with 
keys and a pocket-knife !” 

“ Here in his overcoat is a bunch of cigars and a 
double key,” said one of the policemen, presenting 
the two articles. 

“ But that seems to be all,” continued the Com- 
missary, “ no papers at all, no pocket-book — nothing. 
His wedding-ring, however, is still on his finger and 
a small diamond ring on his little finger.” 

The two men looked at each other in silence. 

“ This looks very much like a crime,” said the 
Commissary. “These matches also confirm that 
idea ; they have evidently been burnt recently. 
From what the Coroner sa)'s, the deceased cannot 
have lit them ; death must have been instantaneous 
after those horrible injuries. Besides, no match-box 
has been found in the dead man’s pockets. There 
must have been a second man in the cellar, and evi- 
dently at the same time when the crime was com- 
mitted.” 

Here one of the policemen came up to him to re- 
port that he had found some tracks leading to the 


20 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


back of the cellar. A lantern was brought down, but 
the traces were too indistinct to lead to any result. 
The broken pieces of mortar and lime had been so 
roughly trod upon, that the footsteps were soon 
lost. 

The Commissary returned to the Justice and said : 

“ We had better go up again. I hope you had the 
street barred so that no one can come in ?” 

“ That is hardly necessary ; with the exception of 
a single man, all the house-owners here live in town 
during the winter months." 

“ That makes it all the more strange that this rich 
banker should have come to grief here," said the 
other, hurriedly mounting the ladder, after he had 
given orders that until the hearse should come the 
body should be left in the cellar. 


CHAPTER If. 

In a great city this event would immediately have 
attracted a crowd of curious people — here, in the 
suburb, not a single person had as yet strayed. The 
officials had the place to themselves, and the young 
commissary was thoughtfully walking up and down 
before the new structure, staring at the ground. 

“ Here are footsteps," he said, examining with 
critical eyes the traces left in the hard frozen snow. 

Well," objected the Justice, “ we may have made 
the marks ourselves." 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


21 


“ By no means,” retorted the former, shaking his 
head ; “ look at these traces that seem to come across 
from the other side of the street ; they are certainly 
several hours old.” 

Suddenly he bent down and examined most 
anxiously a very clearly-defined track. 

“ Look here,^” he cried eagerly, “ look what an 
elegant and characteristic foot ! This gentleman 
wore double-soled boots, and the heels were high 
and narrow. His steps must have been regular and 
elastic, for they are all alike. And — what can this 
mean ? I declare ! Here, quite clearly, do you see ? 
Within the heel a horse-shoe, ending in the shape of 
a heart ! Even the little screws with which the 
horseshoe was secured in the heels have left their 
indentation in the plastic snow ! And then look, 
close by, these coarse, awkward tracks made by 
boots with big nails on the soles !” 

The watchman, who was standing near him, 
blushed purple and all over his face, advancing 
almost shame-faced one of his own clumsy shoes. 

“ That is probably my work,” he said grumbling ; 
“ I was here in the night, but I never saw anything !” 

The Commissary glanced at the man’s shoes and 
nodded. 

“ You may be right !” he said, but the next mo- 
ment, looking once more carefully at the sole of the 
watchman’s shoe, which he held up for his benefit, he 
added, “And yet, no ! You are not right! these 
tracksresemble yours, and here,” pointing at thesnow, 

is clearly the impression of your shoe. Your soles 


22 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


are fastened with nails; but several of these nails are 
wanting and this is distinctly seen in the footsteps. 
But these other tracks belong to shoes, also fastened 
with nails, but having a crack right across the sole. 
Here you see that very clearly ! This man had 
evidently old boots on, that were in very bad order. 
Let me see your soles once more." 

The man did so and the Commissary looked con- 
vinced. 

“ I see ! Another man must have been about here 
last night, and I think later than the man with the 
ornamental boot heels, because the traces are not so 
clearly marked. It was perhaps colder by that time 
and the snow not so soft as before !" Then, fixing 
his eye upon this new track, he followed it till it 
reached the next house ; then he suddenly called 
out : “ Watchman, come here a moment !" 

When the man had come up, the official pointed 
at some tracks inside of the plank fence, just before 
the open window. 

“ Did you get in here last night ?’’ he asked. 

No !" said the man. “ I was here this morning, 
but only a few moments !" 

“ No 1 no !" said the Commissary at once. “ These 
tracks were made in the night, and look ! here is the 
cracked sole again ! How very deep the impression 
is! It looks as if the man had thrown his weight 
against the show-window — or could he have relieved 
himself here of a heavy burden?" He immediately 
ordered the tracks to be carefully measured, and 
then fell into deep meditation. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


23 


“ I admire your sagacity/’ said the Justice, with 
well-founded and serious respect ; “ I should never 
have read in those marks in the snow, what you see 
in them.” 

” Experience is the best master,” said Molitor 
mechanically. “ I have seen no tracks made by the 
deceased,” he murmured to himself. 

He looked again and again for some time at the 
three different tracks which he had discovered ; at 
last he called out: “Schmidt!” One of the police- 
men drew near. “ Go down into the cellar and 
measure the boots of the dead man, but be care- 
ful I — or, better, 1 will go myself,” he added, and in 
a moment he was down in the cellar. 

When he came up again a few minutes later, he 
looked contented and said : “ I was right ; this is the 
dead man’s own work. Now let us see 1” 

Attentive, with his head eagerly bent forward, he 
now stepped across the road bed, tracing the 
remarkable heel-mark backward. “ Exactly !” he 
said, nodding his head ; “ the two tracks come in 
opposite directions across the street, but here they 
reunite,” he said, as he approached an elegant gate 
of wrought-iron. On one of the stone pillars that 
supported the gate, he saw a porcelain plate with 
the words “ Theodore Wigan.” “ This is, of course, 
the banker’s villa.” 

“No doubt the footsteps continue inside,” con- 
tinued Molitor, who had tried in vain to open the 
gates. “ I can see, from here, the traces of the 
strange heel by the side of the dead man’s track. 


24 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


Both of them are coming from the house towards 
us; no doubt the banker and the other man left the 
villa together. He himself went across towards the 
new structure, while the other first turned towards 
Louis Street, then seems to have re-considered and 
returned, crossed the street and reached the banker 
once more just before the unfinished structure.” 

He thought a few moments, then he said: “,We 
shall have to inspect the villa. We have the bunch 
of keys. Schmidt took them from the body.” 

Just then the man came up from the cellar, and 
Molitor called him, in order to get the keys from 
him. They were of all kinds and sizes, so that the 
Commissary had to try a number before he found 
that the big double key, which could be folded up 
to half its size, was the house key. 

Slowly the two gentlemen crossed the paved 
road, which led sideways from the front-gate 
around the garden, between the street and the 
house. It was thickly covered with snow, and the 
Commissary followed the two tracks with keenest 
attention. 

“ Evidently,” said the latter, “ the gentleman with 
the curious heels has gone first, for many of his foot- 
steps are partly obliterated by those of the banker, 
which are left perfect. The soles with nails have 
left no trace inside of the villa.” 

Thus they reached the house-door. The few steps 
that led up to it, showed likewise the impressions 
of both pairs of boots. The other end of the double 
key opened this door, and as they entered they 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


25 


found all the shutters carefully closed. Molitor 
entered first, and his eye was at once attracted by a 
big, damp and dirty spot, contrasting sharply with 
the white marble floor of the hall. 

“ Here the gentlemen have shaken off the snow," 
he said, pointing at this spot, from which footsteps 
led to a door on the left. “ If you will excuse me, 
ril follow them and go in there." 

The Justice had left the front door open, so that 
the daylight could enter fully into the hall, which 
had three other doors, while on the right a staircase 
led to the upper story. 

When the Commissary opened the door on the 
left, a musty, unpleasant odor arose from the dark 
room. The contrast with the bright hall at first 
blinded the new-comers, and Molitor promptly pro- 
duced one of those convenient matches that burn 
some ten minutes, like tiny wax candles. The gentle- 
men found themselves in a tastefully furnished room, 
with a table in the centre and over it a very hand- 
some oil lamp. The unpleasant smell bore witness 
that it had not been long extinguished. 

The Commissary’s eye fell upon some silver 
candle-sticks on the richly-carved sideboard ; he at 
once took one of them, lit the candle, and then went 
up to the lamp that had been lowered. He took off 
the chimney and passed his fingers over the wick. 

“ I was not mistaken," he said to the Justice, who 
had stopped on the threshold. “ I thought the lamp 
had been still burning a few hours ago ; the wick is 
still soft to the touch and, as you seq, still blackens. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


Evidently the gentlemen were in this room for 
some time ; they have smoked their cigars here ; we 
can smell the odor still. Here, in these two arm- 
chairs on the long side of the table, they sat opposite 
each other — here is the cup for the cigar ashes only 
half filled. No ! Only one has smoked, for the cup 
stands close by him, and the ashes that are spilled 
lie all on this side of the cup.” 

He searched with a light under the table, but he 
found nothing. Nor could any other trace of the 
two men be seen. 

“ If these walls could but speak,” exclaimed 
Molitor, looking thoughtfully at the many valuable 
paintings with which the walls were adorned, “ we 
might learn something of the plot that cost the 
owner his life; but as it is, the mystery is deep !” 

The two gentlemen now left the room and soon 
the house also, which they carefully locked behind 
them. When they reached the street again, Molitor 
locked the iron gate and said : “ I will keep the 
keys, it may be that the judge in whose court this 
matter will be discussed, may wish to see the place. 
Now, to our tracks once more ; this visit to the 
house has cost much valuable time.” 

With these words, he began once more to examine 
the footsteps most cautiously. Thus he had again 
followed them across the street, and here he paused, 
turning to the Justice : 

“ You see, sir, here the tracks part ; the steps of 
the deceased disappear, but the curious heels con- 
tinue for some distance farther. From this point. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


27 


therefore, the murdered man— I mean the banker, 
has ceased to move, at least I can find no further 
tracks, the shoes with the nails in the soles have 
obliterated all other impressions.” 

“ It looks exactly as if a heavy body had been 
rolled about in the snow here,” he added, looking 
almost anxiously at a spot which was nearly bare, 
and whispering to himself only. “Or should two 
persons have wrestled here? The snow crust is 
evidently broken up by force, and even the frozen 
soil is turned up here. But what is that?” he sud- 
denly interrupted himself. 

His eye had fallen upon a little slip of paper, 
which barely showed from under the light snow. 
He drew it out and found it to be a sheet of note- 
paper, covered with firmly written letters, that 
showed much character, but were partially effaced 
by the snow. 

“Agreed. Will be at the place, sharp ! Johannes,” 
he painfully made out. 

Then he dug farther in the snow and uncovered 
other papers ; these, however, he simply handed to 
his companions while he read the first note again 
and again. 

“Probably these papers fell from the dead man’s 
pockets,” he said meditatively ; *‘or could the body 
have been lying here? It may be that the murderer 
knelt down here and eagerly searched his pockets — 
hence nothing of value has been found. These few 
papers the murderer did not notice, as he stole away 
with his plunder. Exactly !” he added with an air 


28 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


of triumph, pointing at the impressions of the curious 
horse-shoe by the side of those made by common 
shoes with nails in the soles ; “ do you notice, Jus- 
tice, that here the impressions are no longer as sharp 
as before ; from which I conclude that here the mur- 
derer — for he and no other man had the extraor- 
dinary ornament on his heels — walked slowly by the 
side of his victim, who feared nothing. Then, when 
the deed was done, he no longer put his feet down 
regularly, and leisurely, blit — as you see — helter 
skelter and in a great hurry 

Just then the men reached the corner of the street 
and the Commissary let a sigh escape him. 

Here is an end of all traces. I presume Louis 
Street is much more frequented than Neander 
Street.” 

“ Yes,” answered the Justice ; “ some little distance 
down the tram-cars cross it.” 

“ But see ! here on the footpath that leads to the 
^ banker’s villa,’ is another track,” exclaimed the 
Commissary ; “ somebody else has walked here,” 
he added “ this is the fourth track, which also must 
have been produced during the night.” 

Molitor looked dumbfounded. 

“ I do not understand these many footsteps in the 
newly-fallen snow, especially as Neander Street has 
no outlet at the other end, and thus can only be used 
by people who live in it. This is a man’s foot, 
rather small and narrow, and not unlike the foot 
with the heart,, only more elegant and more charac- 
teristic.” 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


29 


Once more, with his eye bent upon the ground, 
he retraced his steps back to the villa. 

“ Here, 1 am sure, one of the four men has been 
walking up and down, while waiting for some one. 
Does not this look as if a murderous attack had been 
prepared and discussed here, where no human eye 
was known to observe what was going on ?” 

“ Then you believe that robbers murdered the 
banker?” asked the Justice. 

At least I can see no reason why the rich banker 
should throw himself willingly into the cellar ; be- 
sides, the absence of watch and money confirms the 
idea. Did the banker have any bitter enemy here?” 

“ By no means ! On the contrary, his future 
son-in-law, Mr. Dunsing, lives quite near here. 
Great God ! What will he say when he hears of 
this terrible crime ?” 

“Ah!” exclaimed the Commissary eagerly. 
“ Where does, that gentleman live ?” 

“ Some little way up Louis Street. Do you see 
that tall chimney behind those houses ?” 

“ Quite clearly,” was the reply. 

“ Well, that belongs to Mr. Dunsing’s factory.” 

The Commissary returned to his occupation of the 
moment and soon came back to the steps, saying : 

“ It is too bad that all traces are lost at the en- 
trance into Louis Street — the two gentlemen were 
friends, 1 presume?” 

“ Oh, certainly !” came the answer. “ I can vouch 
for their friendship. 1 suppose I had better send 
word to Mr. Dunsing ; he will be terribly shocked.” 


30 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH, 


“ If you permit me, we can walk there together,’' 
said the Commissary, who seemed suddenly to have 
come to a decision. He called one of his police- 
men, and said: “Schmidt, you will remain here; 
watch over the body and send me word instantly if 
the hearse should come during my absence. I am 
going to Mr. Dunsing’s factory, where I can be 
found. Winer will measure this newly-found track 
in the meantime; do you hear?” 

The man saluted, and his superior, courteous!}’ 
bowing to the Justice, went with him hurriedly 
down the street. 

The factory stood some five minutes’ walk from 
the corner formed by Neander Street and Louis 
Street ; a high wall cut it off from the outer world. 
When the gentlemen entered the grounds through 
the iron gates, they noticed on one side the factory 
proper with its gigantic chimney, and on the other 
side, connected with the factor}^ by a covered walk, 
the villa-like private house of the owner. The fac- 
tory was a busy scene, full of life and activity ; 
blackened men, carrying heavy burdens, were busily 
going to and fro. The peculiar whirring noise that 
came from the factory, indicated that the steam- 
engine was at work. 

A man dressed like a laborer, stopped the two 
men, asking what they wanted. At the Commis- 
sary’s request he showed them the way to the 
Counting Rooms, where they found the owner quite 
alone. 

Richard Dunsing was a young man still, and in 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


81 


hi^ appearance not unlike the Commissary. But 
while the latter had blue eyes, speaking of great 
strength of character, coupled with uncommon 
goodness of heart, there appeared a peculiar, almost 
effeminate line about the sensuous, full lips of the 
manufacturer. His eyes, sunk deep into their cav- 
ities, and with unsteady, flitting looks, spoke of many 
nights spent in wild ways. Still there was some- 
thing in his soft, pleasing features, that was apt to 
win womans’ good will and mothers’ tender care, 
but found no sympathy with maturer women and 
serious men. 

At the entrance of the two gentleman, Mr. Dun- 
sing rose and asked in an uncertain, slightly veiled 
voice: What procures me this honor?” while he 
put up a double gold eye-glass. The Commissary 
noticed, however, that he was persistently looking 
over them at his visitors, and thought, therefore, 
that they were only meant to give the young man’s 
appearance more weight. 

“We come on a very sad errand, Mr. Dunsing,” 
began the Justice, shaking hands with his host and 
then presenting him to the Commissary of Police. 
“ I thought it my duty to inform you first of all.” 

“You frighten me! What on earth is it?” ex- 
claimed Dunsing, turning paler and unconsciously, 
perhaps, watching the Commissary, who tried to 
read in his face what Was going on in his mind. 

“ Your future father-in-law has had an accident !” 
the Justice replied, after a pause. 

The terror of the manufacturer looked at first real 


32 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


enough ; he shook nervously and the last vestige of 
color vanished from his face, which never looked 
florid. 

“What? Oh, that is impossible! You mean 
Wigan, the banker Wigan ?” He uttered these 
words with great violence. “ Why, gentlemen, I 
saw him only a few days ago, and he looked the pic- 
ture of health and strength !” 

His glances wandered from one face to the other, 
as if he expected the one or the other would contra- 
dict him. 

Molitor simply shrugged his shoulders slightly 
and continued to watch the young man’s features. 

His companion, on the other hand, warmly shook 
hands with him, and said : 

“We are all in God’s hand. I presume Mr. Wigan 
was on his way to see you.” 

The Commissary saw the slight, nervous tremor 
that appeared once more around the corners of the 
young man’s mouth, and something like a vague 
suspicion dawned in his heart. 

“To see me?” Dunsing repeated in unnatural 
haste. “ I do not think so, remembering that he 
always notified me of his intended visits, for fear of 
not finding me at home. But you torture me ; what 
is it? Tell me, tell me, what is it that has happened 
to him ?” 

In a few brief words the Justice told him what 
had occurred. 

“ But that is impossible !” the young man cried, 
in his horror; “in Neander Street you say, and 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


33 


opposite his own place — my future father-in-law? 
But pray, sit down,” he continued, a little more 
calmly, “and pardon me for neglecting this simple 
duty— but you have startled me, overwhelmed 
me — ” 

He paused, expecting evidentl}^ some courteous 
little reply ; but as nothing came to relieve him, he 
became embarrassed, rubbed his forehead with his 
hand, and nervously strode up and down in the 
room. 

“Impossible! impossible !” he repeated. “What 
could have induced my father-in-law to come out to 
Neander Street at such a late hour of the night?” 

“We have wondered as you do,” Molitor said; 
“ we hoped you might be able to explain the mystery 
to us.” 

“I?” replied the young man, in long-drawn ac- 
cents. “ I ? Why, you see me as much amazed as 
any one can be !” 

“Well, we all naturally presumed that Mr. Wigan 
was on his way to you when — ” 

“No! no! Then he would certainly not have 
crossed the street, around the corner,” said Dun- 
sing, violently shaking his head. “Besides, in that 
snow-storm he would assuredly not have come on 
foot all the way.” 

“ Except that just at the corner of Louis Street 
the tramway cars pass by,” remarked Molitor 
dryly. 

But once more Dunsing shook his head violently. 

“ No ! no ! I know Mr. Wigan’s habits too well ! He 


34 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


keeps a carriage and horses and would, no doubt, 
have used them in coming so far out of town. But, 
aside from all that — he is dead, you say, dead — ?” 

“ Yes, beyond all doubt!" replied the Commissary 
in measured accents, “ and also beyond all doubt, a 
great crime has been committed." 

“What? Was he murdered, you think? You 
don’t say so !" And now at last the excitement 
seemed to overcome him and he had to sit down on 
the turning-stool before his writing-table. For some 
minutes oppressive silence prevailed. 

“Murdered!" he groaned again, and his hands 
fell from the face which they had hidden till now. 
“ Great heavens! What a fearful word ! The news 
comes so terribly sudden — you will pardon me, 
gentlemen, 1 am sure, if you see me undone, and I 
hardly know what I am to say to 3^011." 

“That does not matter in the least!" Molitor 
said rather sharply, for the 3^oung man’s manner did 
not please him at all ; “ we hoped you would be able 
to throw some light on the event, since we took it 
for granted that the banker had met with — let us 
say, with this accident — while returning from your 
house." 

“ Oh, no! no, gentlemen, not the slightest idea !" 
the young man cried, rising suddenly again from 
his chair, “ not the least ! We were good friends, my 
father-in-law and I, but by no means so intimate as 
that. Especially during this wintry weather! He 
could not even know whether he would find me at 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


35 


home or not ! He never was the man who took so 
much trouble for nothing/’ 

Again he paused and looked anxiously from face to 
face, as if expecting some answer ; but soon the silence 
seemed to become unbearable to him and, rubbing 
his hands busily, he added : 

“ What a fearful calamity ! And what will be 
done next?” 

“ Will you not come and look at the body ?” Moli- 
itor asked quite unintentionally. 

Dunsing’s face flushed with evident horror. 

“ For nothing in the world !” he cried, so fierce- 
ly that the Justice also looked at him wondering. 
“ You must pardon me, gentlemen,” he then said, as 
if to make amends for the unfavorable impression 
which his wordsseemed to have produced, and after 
again anxiously peering into the faces of his visitors, 
“ but I have an instinctive horror of dead people, 
especially when they are disfigured. I remember 
when they took me to the bier of my own mother, 
I struggled with all my might, until my father 
desisted, calling me a coward. It was not coward- 
ice, however; you may believe me, gentlemen, I suf- 
fer from my nerves, and such a fixed, dead face pur- 
sues me even in my dreams. And then,” he sud- 
denly added, evidently under the impression of a 
new thought, “ I think I had better drive to town at 
once. Poor Erna ! What will she say ? And the 
poor mother !” 

It was the first time that Dunsing mentioned the 
name of his betrothed and alluded to the crushing 


36 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


misfortune that had befallen her who was so dear to 
his heart ! 

Once more Molitor felt a vague mistrust creeping 
over him ; there seemed to be so little real feeling 
in the young man’s formal speech. He could not 
object to anything he was saying ; but it all came 
forth so easily, so very superficially, that he felt he 
himself would not have been able to show such 
remarkable composure. 

Yes, you are right !” said the Justice ; “ besides, 
you will thus relieve us, as regards our most painful 
duty !” 

“ It is, of course, my duty,” said the young man, 
looking at his watch. “ It is ten now ; before noon I 
can be at their house. Poor, poor Erna! How will 
she take it?” He rose and walked up and down a 
few times. Now, at last, he seemed gradually to 
realize the horror of the calamity. 

“Do you know if your father-in-law had any ene- 
mies in this neighborhood?” Molitor inquired. 

Dunsing looked at him in surprise. 

“ Not to my knowledge. Do you really think it 
was murder?” 

“ Certainly !” interrupted the Judge. “ The bank- 
er’s pockets are all stripped ; there was neither 
watch nor porte-monnaie to be found, and yet, Mr. 
Wigan, no doubt, had some money on his person.” 

“ Most assuredly !” Dunsing hastily broke in. 
“ My father-in-law had his peculiarities, and one was 
that he was always afraid he might not have money 
enough with him, if anything happened. I would 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


37 


bet that he had at least two or three hundred thalers 
in his pockets. Did they not find a red morocco 
porte-feuille ? He always carried it in the left breast 
pocket of his coat.*’ 

The two officials shook their heads. 

“ Do you think he carried it as usual last night?” 
asked the Commissary, urgently. 

“ Most assuredly !” replied Dunsing. “ You may 
rely upon it. I know the banker’s peculiarities 
most accurately ; he was very conservative and 
never deviated from old habits. But tell me,” the 
young man began again, touching his visitor on the 
arm, “tell me, has nothing else been found on my 
future father-in-law ?” 

“ Nothing else,” repeated the officer, looking at 
him greatly astounded. “ Will you express your- 
self more clearly ?” 

“ Well, 1 meant, have no papers been found in his 
pockets; he might have been on his way to me, and 
he might have had papers intended for me — did you 
say there was nothing there to suggest the purpose 
for which he might have come to see me?” 

Molitor’s mistrust grew fast. He simply shrugged 
his shoulders. 

“ Do not misunderstand me,” cried the young 
man, eagerly, evidently aware of the bad impression 
his words had produced. “ I wanted to help you ! 
As my father-in-law is also my banker, he might 
very easily have had something of importance to 
consult about. That was why I asked.” 

Just then there came a knock at the door. One of 


38 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


the factory hands came to say that a policeman had 
just come who wanted to see the Commissary on 
business. 

“ Probably the hearse has come,” said Molitor, 
and briefly bowing to the manufacturer, he went 
out, followed by the Justice. “Mr. Dunsing was 
very much excited,” he said, as the two men were 
returning to the ill-omened place. 

“ He does not look to me as if he felt very deeply,” 
replied the Commissary; “ he has not made a very 
good impression upon me.” 

His companion smiled. 

“Many say so,” he remarked; “but when you 
learn to know Dunsing more intimately, you find 
him to be a first-rate fellow. The establishment 
was his father’s before him, who made him study 
very hard. When the old man died, the son was a 
rich man; and you know rich young men must sow 
their wild oats.” 

The Commissary kept silence. Just then they 
turned into Neander Street, and, as they had 
expected, there stood the ill-shaped, black-curtained 
conveyance that was to take the remains of the sud- 
denly deceased banker to the Morgue. In a few 
minutes the body was most carefully deposited inside, 
and the vehicle started. Molitor also took leave of 
the Justice of the Peace, begging him once more to 
send him his official report as soon as possible. Then 
he jumped into a cab and told the driver to follow 
the hearse. 



CHAPTER III. 

Rolf Molitor had seated himself in a corner of the 
carriage and lit a cigar. Sending the blue clouds of 
smoke out of the open window, he looked thought- 
fully upon the scenes which he rapidly passed. He 
soon left the wintry solitude of the suburbs ; the 
first long rows of palatial buildings appeared, and 
the farther he entered into the city proper, the more 
completely all traces of the severe winter disap- 
peared. The busy, ever shifting crowds of foot- 
passengers, eagerly hurrying now in one and now 
in another direction, had long since effaced every 
trace of the snow on the broad sidewalks. But Rolf 
Molitor's thoughts were elsewhere. His pitiless 
profession had caused him to look into the distorted 
face of many a victim of murder ; with rare success 
he, the young man, had pursued the traces of many 
a cunning criminal, but he could not remember that 
any similar event had ever made the same deep and 
absorbing impression upon him. He could not tell 
why, but he felt sure that the sadly disfigured face, 
with its mixed look of horror and of bodily pain, 
had taken a secret into the Unknown Land which 

[ 39 ] 



40 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


would tax all his skill and his energy to discover, 
and, in case of success, would also bring him a cer- 
tain and unparalled reward. What occupied him 
just now most, was the contrast between the strange 
excitement of the young manufacturer, and the 
absence of all feeling when he received the first news 
of this appalling calamity. 

He felt quite relieved when at last he left the 
brilliantly illumined and densely crowded streets of 
the fashionable city behind, and was driving along 
the high walls that surrounded both the largest 
hospital in the city, and the last resort of those who 
had in their despair ended their own lives, or been 
suddenly sent into eternity by the hand of the 
assassin. 

The hearse drove slowly into the court-yard, 
while Molitor, with youthful agility, ran up the 
steps that led to the sombre room where the victims 
of suicide or of crime were laid out till recognized 
and claimed by their friends. 

On the broad steps leading up to the principal 
door of entrance, two persons were standing, en- 
gaged in eager conversation. The Commissary’s 
practiced eye quickly passed the familiar form of the 
silver-haired and venerable-looking steward, and a 
young, weeping lady in dark dress. He could not 
see her face, but he was confirmed at once in his 
guess at the purpose that had brought her to this 
dismal place. 

He approached the little group, which remained 
perfect!}" unconscious of his drawing near. The 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


41 


white-haired old man was all eagerness to console 
the weeping lady. 

“ Compose yourself, my dear, dear lady,” he said 
just then, with a deep voice full of sympathy. “ We 
must not always suppose the worst at once; it may 
not be your father’s habit to remain out over night, 
and yet he may have spent a night in the suburbs. 
Your over-excited imagination, no doubt, has played 
you a bad trick, and if you will please go home now, 
you will most probably find your father in his 
accustomed place at table. Spare yourself the sad 
sight of the bodies in this room. That is not a sight 
fit for young ladies. And, besides, I can give you 
the solemn assurance that your esteemed father is 
not among the dead in the Morgue. 

“ But you were saying just now that that black 
wagon, which has just driven into the court, is bring- 
ing a new unfortunate?” said the young lady, with 
quivering lips. 

Unconsciously she then looked at the Commis- 
sary, who was strangely affected and moved by the 
sight of the marvelously delicate profile and the 
touching sorrow that dwelt in the beautiful features, 
enhancing their charms and deepening the impres- 
sion they made. 

That need not trouble you ! That wagon comes 
every morning,” the Steward continued, trying to 
soothe the girl’s excessive grief. “ You can return 
home, my dear young lady, and be at rest. I can 
give you my solemn word that your father, who, I 
hope will live yet many years by God’s mercy, is 


42 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


not among our dead. You should certainly hear it 
first of all, if such a calamity should happen — which 
God will prevent ! What was 3^our name, you 
said ?” 

“ My father is the Banker Wigan !” 

Molitor had heard every word, and at this men- 
tion of her name, an electric shock as it were, 
benumbed his whole frame, and yet he felt — what 
he had never known in all his career, full of startling, 
overwhelming impressions — he felt afraid, afraid of 
those dark-brown eyes, that were full of tears, and 
looked so despairing, so helpless, gazing as they 
were in his own eyes. 

“ I do not know,” continued the young lady, after 
a pause, raising her hands to the white-haired old 
man; “I do not know why I cannot leave this 
place. I have never in my life been here. I do not 
know what has brought me here, and yet I feel as if 
all night long it urged me to come here. Papa was 
so strange last night when he left us, and when hour 
after hour went b}^ and he did not return, fear crept 
into my heart. We had agreed that he should 
return at eleven, and Mamma and I, we were wait- 
ing for him in evening dress, to go to a part}^ and 
all the stranger it was that he should not come. 
The lighter the morning grew, the darker my heart 
became, till black despair seized it, and I could 
endure it no longer. What impelled me to come 
here I do not know, as I told you ; but I feel in my 
innermost heart that the horrpr with which this 
place inspires me, is not a groundless feeling. I 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


43 


cannot leave here till I know who the unfortunate 
man is that has just been brought here." 

“This gentleman will be able to tell you," said the 
aged Steward, turning to the Commissary, but he 
stopped suddenly, when he saw how deadly pale 
Molitor’s face had turned and how reproachfully he 
looked at him. 

The young lady had turned so quickly that she 
just caught the look of dismay ; her lips began once 
more to quiver and her slender, delicate frame 
trembled so that Molitor hastened to support her 
and hold her in his strong arms. 

“ Compose yourself, Madame !" he said with 
gently tremulous voice, but he could not prevent 
showing in his features how fearfully serious the 
whole occurrence appeared to his eyes. 

“You know more! You know it all!" she 
exclaimed, after looking anxiously in his face. She 
seemed utterly to forget that he was a perfect 
stranger and went oh : “ I pray, I beseech you, tell 
me, tell me all ! Conceal nothing from me or you 
will kill me !" 

Molitor had, of course, at once recognized in her 
the daughter of the unfortunate man, whose remains 
he had just accompanied to the Morgue ; and now 
he tried to evade her questions and to tell her all 
kinds of comforting thoughts, when suddenly a 
shrill cry broke forth and the poor girl sank, almost 
fainting, into the old Warden’s helpful arms. 

But her weakness overcame her only for a 
moment; then she was composed again, and raising 


u 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


her hands she besought the Warden to take her to 
her father : 

“ Do not leave me any longer in this uncertainty ! 
I cannot endure it. It is sure to kill me !” she said 
sobbing. 

The two men exchanged looks ; then the old man 
said : 

“ My poor dear Miss, I will cheerfully do what I 
can for you ; but first, my duty calls me to the inner 
room.” 

He freed himself with gentle efforts from the 
hands of the young lady, that held him convul- 
sively, and availed himself cunningly of the moment 
when Molitor once more approached, to escape 
unnoticed. 

“You are anxious about your father, I gather 
from your words,” he said in calm, measured tones. 
“ Was he in the habit of remaining out at night?” 

“ By no means,” she replied, while the tears were 
running down her pale cheeks ; “ that is what made 
me feel so anxious. Mamma thought there was no 
reason to be troubled, but I could not conquer the 
anxiety that took possession of my being. Oh, I 
know something terrible has happened — I know it, 
for I saw the look you gave the Warden just now. 
Why will you not tell me the truth ? the whole truth ! 
It is my right to know it, and I demand it of you !” 

She look at him with such an ineffably touching 
expression, that he drew a deep breath and then, 
approaching her quite near, and speaking in a low 
whisper, he said : 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


45 


“ Well, Madame, if you insist, your will shall be 
done. Your father has met with an accident — ” 
Dead ! dead! Why will you not utter it, the 
hideous, dread word, that destroys all hope?” the 
young lady cried out, while the dread certainty 
drove the last vestige of color out of her face. 

The Commissary bowed his head and was silent. 
He could not face this boundless despair and invent 
a story which, in a few hours, would prove to be a 
falsehood ; but his silence said more .than words 
could have told the poor girl. 

Erna Wigan remained motionless for a moment, 
as if paralyzed ; but the next moment, after a few low 
sobs had broken from her lips, she also bowed her 
head, and whispered with expiring accents : 

“ Dead ! Really dead ! Poor, dear father !” 

Her strength was on the point of forsaking her, 
when the Commissary came to her aid. At the same 
time the Warden re-appeared, looking very solemn. 
It was his sight, however, which instantly restored 
the young girl’s strength ; she hurried up to him, 
exclaiming: 

“ Now, sir, now you will not let me pray in vain 
any longer! Take me to my father ! I know he is 
dead. I have a sacred right to see him. I pray, I 
demand it ! Take me to my father !” 

Once more the two men exchanged a look full of 
meaning. Then the warden seized the gloved 
right hand of the lady, saying with an unusually 
tender voice ; 

Well, then, come with me, my child. I feel as if 


46 


THE- TELL-TALE WATCH. 


1 were doing wrong to take a rosy, unfolding life to 
this dread place where Death rules supreme, but I 
hope your loving heart will enable you to bear the 
worst. You must, however, promise me not to 
approach too closely ! Death produces many sad 
changes in a face that is dear to us. Consider that 
well, my child !” 

She understood him perfectly and apparently 
self-composed she followed him, while the Commis- 
sary kept at a little distance behind the two. 

Thus with unsteady, trembling steps, and scarcely / 
breathing, they crossed the court and entering 
another part of the building, they passed through 
folding doors and then mounted some steps. This 
seemed to be a hard task for the poor young lady, 
who had been deeply affected by seeing in the 
court-yard the hearse, and breathed so painful an 
“Oh, my God! My God!” that the old warden 
once more tried to dissuade her from proceeding 
any further. But Miss Wigan, at his first persuasive 
words, drew herself up and resolutely said : 

“Ah, no! no! 1 am strong enough. I must see 
Father!” 

“ Well, then, let it be so,” said the old warden. 

He went up to an iron door on the left, opened it 
cautiously and then entered in advance of the young 
girl. 

The room was large; the three or four couches 
which stood about, looked at the first glance like 
real lounges, and they were such with the difference 
only that no one who had been lying on them, ever 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


47 


rose to life again. On one of them lay the body of 
the banker. The warden had thoughtfully covered 
it with a large dark cloth ; the head was also con- 
cealed down to the eyes, to prevent the loving 
child from being shocked by the sight of the hor- 
ribly disfigured skull. 

For some moments Erna stood silent and motion- 
less near the door ; then a piercing cry broke from 
her lips: “Father! Poor, dear father!” and before 
the Warden could seize her, she had rushed forward 
and sunk down on one knee by the side of the 
couch. Raising both hands towards the body, she 
once more said, barely breathing, but in unspeakably 
mournful accents: “ Father ! Dear Father !” till the 
hearts of the two stern, strong men were moved to 
deepest sympathy. Hysterical sobs thereupon shook 
the delicate frame. “ No ! No ! It is only a dream ! 
It cannot be reality !” she cried, and was on the 
point of throwing herself on her father. 

But the Warden seized her with his strong hand, 
and before she well knew what was done, she was 
outside again, and the old man murmured with deep 
emotion : “ I did wrong to let you see it, but I could 
not oppose your prayer, my poor child !” 

Molitor now also approached, upon whom she 
made a stronger impression than before, and said a 
few sympathizing words. 

• Erna Wigan, however, remained apparently indif- 
ferent, she had shed all the tears that Nature pro- 
vided, and rigid pain now made her features pale 
unto death. 


48 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


‘‘ 1 thank you,” she said at last, with quivering 
lips. “ You have done me a great kindness, for I 
decidedly prefer an end with horror to a horror and 
no end. My father used to say so. 1 can hear him 
say so now! And, oh, God! 1 shall never, never 
hear his voice again !” And once more the fearful 
grief seemed to overpower the poor, young girl. 

Molitor, seeing this, said to her : 

“Permit me, I pray you, to see you home; you 
need support. Besides, my official duties take me 
at once to your house — permit me to present myself, 
I am Mr. Molitor, Commissary of Police, and it will 
be my duty to investigate this mysterious affair, by 
which your father has been sacrificed.” 

There was suddenly a flash of wild fire in the eyes 
of the young lady, and seizing one of his hands, she 
cried : 

“ Yes, avenge my father ! I have no doubt — he was 
murdered !” 

And she spoke these words in tones of such deep 
and sure conviction, that they made a profound im- 
pression upon both men present. 

“ Be assured, Madame, we shall do our duty faith- 
fully!” said Molitor, bowing deeply. 

Then he offered her his arm, and thus supported, 
she left the scene of horror. But when she found 
herself in the open air, seated in a wretched cab and 
jolted on the bad pavement, all her composure left 
her and the poor girl broke down completely,' Rest- 
ing her lovely head on the hard cushions of the car- 
riage, she pressed her handkerchief on the deadly 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


49 


pale, tear-suffused face and broke out into low, spas- 
modic sobbing. 

The tears of a beautiful young maiden are rarely 
without their effect upon a man’s heart, but in this 
case they fell, Molitor fancied, one by one, hot and 
burning upon his susceptible heart, and he felt as if 
he ought gently to withdraw those tiny, white hands 
from the face which they were hiding, and to whisper 
words of comfort. He fancied he had not met the un- 
fortunate banker’s daughter for the first time, but had 
known her many a year. Repeatedly he attempted 
to speak, but not a sound broke from his lips ; he 
could not intrude upon the sacred sorrow of the 
sobbing child. 

At last Erna Wigan took her hands from her face, 
dried her cheeks, and stared at the little she could 
see of the outer world through the carriage windows 
covered with moisture. 

The busy din and turmoil of the streets, however, 
seemed to cause her pain, and when unfortunately 
her look fell upon a hearse, covered all over with 
wreaths and garlands, and she saw within a richly 
ornamented coffin, she started back in horror, and 
once more big tears ran slowly down those pale 
cheeks. 

“ There also happiness goes to the grave, never 
to return !” she moaned to herself. 

But her companion was too glad to notice that 
the spell was broken at last and he said, trying to 
console her : “We all have to leave our pleasant, 
cheerful life, but we have no right to complain, for 


50 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


is not all and everything in our earthly existence 
subject to eternal change. And I cannot imagine 
that any one who has once passed through the 
painful parting with life, should ever wish to return 
to this earth, so full of illusions and disappointments. 
Not the dead we ought to pity, I think, when inex- 
orable Fate summons them to ascend on high, but 
us, the survivors, who henceforth have to bear the 
burdens of life alone and unaided by those who now 
have found peace.” 

The poor, young girl drew a deep sigh. 

“ Poor mortals that we are ! we think we have 
dominion over the whole creation, and we do not 
know that the simple kiss we give at night before 
retiring, may mean a parting for all time to come.” 

Suddenly, overcome with sadness, she paused 
again and her lips quivered. 

“ You are right. Miss Wigan,” said her young 
companion, “ but blessed is he who has thus been 
kissed by one he loves and cherishes — how fearful 
must be the curse of him who has parted in discord 
or hatred, under the influence of ill-fated passion.” 

He was evidently only speaking in order to draw 
her mind from the great, all-absorbing grief, which 
threatened to crush her ; and with such a view, no 
doubt, he continued : 

“ I remember a scene which I witnessed profes- 
sionally some years ago, but which has ever since 
continued to live in my memory as if it had hap- 
pened but yesterday. I was passing, one fine, sunny 
morning in autumn, along the banks of the river, 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


51 


when they were drawing the body of a poor women 
from the water, who had sought Death there. It 
was the old, old story of a moment’s rash despair, 
that sought refuge from unbearable cruelty on the 
part of a brutal husband. And that same day it 
fell to my lot, as Judge, to see the husband brought 
before me, in the presence of his wife’s dead body. 
Never in my life shall I forget the glassy, shy glance 
he cast at the lifeless body of her whom he had 
sworn to love, cherish and protect. 

“ ‘ I surely did not want you to do that, Jenny !’ he 
cried again and again. ‘ Oh, Jenny, why did you go 
away from me ! Say one word, one single word ! I 
cannot bear this! Tell me that I did not drive you 
into the arms of Death ! Tell me that you have for- 
given me ; or else I shall become insane !’ 

“And he did turn insane ; the memories of his 
dead wife let him find no rest upon earth ! Now 
he has been standing before his Highest Judge — 
who knows what the sentence was?” 

Poor Erna had become paler and paler ; the whole 
delicate frame trembled with mixed horror and pro- 
found sympathy. She pressed her head deeper and 
deeper into the cushions,, but said not a word. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Mrs. Adelheid Wigan, the banker’s widow, had 
heard the horrible fate that had befallen her hus- 
band through her future son-in-law, who had prom- 
ised to hurry into town and to tell her all. Thus 
Molitor and his fair companion found these two 
upstairs in the luxuriously furnished house of the 
banker. There was hardly time for Molitor to 
introduce himself to the still handsome lady of the 
house, for Erna had, at her sight, lost the last 
vestige of composure. With unsteady', hurrfed 
steps the young girl came up to the lady, who 
advanced to meet her and, painfully sobbing, wound 
her arms around her neck. 

“ Oh Mamma, Mamma !” she cried, woefully. 
“ What a horrible, thing ! Papa has been murdered ! 
our good, dear Papa! This gentleman,” pointing 
at Molitor, “ was kind enough to let me see him — 
if you knew what a fearful place it is where they 
keep him !” 

Unconsciously the young official looked with 
increased curiosity at the older lady’s face, he was 
[ 52 ] 


THE TELL-TALK watch. 


53 


afraid here also to meet with an outburst of wild 
' sorrow, and was surprised by her perfect composure. 
She passed her caressing hand over her daughter’s 
fair, low brow, and said comfortingly : 

“ My dear Erna, you must try to compose your- 
self. As yet, it is true, I myself cannot comprehend 
the whole enormity of the terrible misfortune that 
God has sent us, but you and 1 know that He is 
merciful and maketh all things work together for 
our well-being.” 

“ Ah, dear mother, but this is too fearful. Dead ! 
dead ! and but last night he was here in our midst, 
well and hearty. I can yet feel his warm kiss on my 
forehead, before he left us here, and now he is lying 
cold and lifeless in that awful place — oh, mother! 
mother! 1 cannot bear it!” 

Now her betrothed appoached her, and said a few 
words of comfort to her, and she really seemed to 
find consolation in what he said. With very strange- 
ly mixed feelings the Commissary followed the 
young man, as he took the fair Erna into a side- 
room ; he hardly knew what the sight of this inti- 
macy made him feel — he was certain, however, that 
he did not feel very kindly towards the young man. 
However, the lady of the house promptly led his 
thoughts back to his duty. 

“ You come, no doubt,” she said, inviting him at 
the same time to take a seat, “ You come, no doubt, 
in your official capacity ?” 

Molitor now introduced himself formally and 
added the usual words of sympathy. 


54 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ You will understand,” she continued, “ that just 
now we are still too directly bending under the 
weight of our misfortune to give you any precise 
information — Great God ! it has come so very sud- 
denly! so very unexpectedly!” 

“ And yet it is my painful duty, Madame, to ask 
you a few questions. It will gratify you to learn 
that energetic steps have already been taken to 
apprehend the criminal or criminals, who have so 
cruelly and prematurely ended your husband’s life.” 

“You think, then, there was crime?” replied the 
lady. “ Mr. Dunsing also mentioned it, but I could 
not share his conviction.” 

“And yet I must agree with your future son-in- 
law,” answered the Commissary. “ 1 cannot believe 
that it was an accident.” 

He then briefly narrated all the occurrences of the 
morning ; but the longer he spoke, the more he 
admired the truly astounding composure of this 
lady, who had just experienced one of the most sig- 
nal blows that fate can inflict upon us mortal beings. 
He could not understand — and he could not help 
being unpleasantly impressed by the strange fact, 
that not a word of complaint, not a murmur of pain, 
escaped her lips. And more than that, when he 
came to question her, she made answer and gave 
information in a quiet, dignified manner, just as if 
she were accounting for the sayings and doings of 
a third person, a perfect stranger. Whenever the 
young official looked into her still beautiful face, full 
of expression, he never saw a trace of tears, nor a 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


55 


sign of such sorrow as a husband’s sudden and 
tragic loss would be apt to produce. 

“Then you think my husband was murdered by 
one of his companions?” she asked. 

“ I cannot doubt it ; and my suspicions are so 
strong that I shall go directly from here to report 
to the presiding judge in person all that I have 
learned.” 

“And the calamity occurred near our villa, or 
just opposite, you say?” she once more resumed. 
“ This is incomprehensible to me ; it was so utterly 
contrary to all of my husband’s habits, to visit this 
remote country house, which we use only in sum- 
mer, during such an inhospitable winter night. I 
cannot imagine what could have induced him to 
take such a very unusual step.” 

“This is my impression, likewise,” confirmed the 
official, looking at her, full of expectation. “ I was 
in hopes of learning from you something about the 
persons who must have been last night in company 
with your husband.” 

But Mrs. Wigan shook her head, and the young 
man fancied he saw her lips curl with bitterness. 

“ I cared little for my husband’s acquaintances. 
As far as I know, he had a very extensive circle 
of companions, who, however, never came to the 
house.” 

This sounded so harsh and almost repelling, that 
Molitor again looked at her marveling, and sud- 
denly, within himself, began to doubt the heart of 
this fair but inapproachable woman. 


56 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ Then you have no idea, Madame, where Mr. 
Wigan may have gone last night?” he asked. 

“ Not the slightest !” came the cool denial. “ My 
husband was not in the habit of sharing his secrets 
with me. As I told you, he was much absent from 
home !” 

“ And on that account you were not troubled by 
his staying away so late?” 

“ 1 would not say that. We were invited to the 
house of some friends of ours, but as they were in 
the habit of coming home only after the theatre, we 
had agreed to go there about eleven. But my hus- 
band did not come, and now, I must confess, a certain 
anxiety seized me, as he was generally a model of 
punctuality. When midnight came, I tried to con- 
sole myself with the thought that some business or 
some newly-arrived friend might detain him. My 
daughter increased my anxiety by her impression 
that her father had looked excited or annoyed 
towards evening. This may have been the case ; it is 
even probable, now that this terrible calamity has 
come upon us; but at that time 1 was too busy 
with other thoughts to mind it much.” 

“ Then your apprehensions were aroused only 
when your husband did not return all night long, 
when he did not even return in the morning hours?” 

“By no means!” came the cool but decided an- 
swer. “ 1 should have had no way to become aware 
of his absence, as my bed-rooms are on this side of 
the house, and his in the other wing. It was only 
at breakfast, when the butler told us that my hus- 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


57 


band's bed had not been used in the night, that we 
felt anxious. Erna, especially, was greatly concerned, 
and her excitement grew with ever}^ hour. I must 
confess, she apprehended the worst. About eleven 
she drove to the Morgue — had 1 known where she 
was going, I should certainly have forbidden her,” 

The Commissary bent his head, meditatingdeeply ; 
then he asked once more: 

“ Your daughter, then, did notice a serious change 
in your husband ; did she assign any reasons that 
you can remember ?” 

The young man thought the lady was about to 
give a quick answer, but she checked herself ; not a 
sound fell from her lips, and only after a consider- 
able pause, she said : 

“ I can really furnish no information, my dear sir; 
but, of course, you can inspect the rooms of my hus- 
band, and perhaps your ingenuity may obtain some 
light there. I, for my part, never knew much of 
his intentions.” 

The young man again felt that the lady might say 
more if she chose ; he therefore added only these 
words : 

“ Will you finally permit me one more question. 
Was your husband in the habit of going out without 
his watch and with no money in his pockets?” 

Mrs. Wigan looked at him amazed. 

“ On the contrary,” she said, more eagerly than 
she had yet done, “ my husband was peculiar in 
those very points. As long as I have known him, 
he had the fixed idea that he might some time or 


58 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


other be found without money, when it was most 
important. He hardly ever, therefore, left home 
without a considerable sum of money ; he generally 
carried a red morocco porte-feuille, which his 
daughter had nicely embroidered five years ago to 
show him her skill in such work.” 

“ No such porte-feuille has been found upon the 
body,” came the very serious answer. “ And you 
think you are sure he had it yesterday, also, when he 
left you ?” 

1 happen to be quite sure about it,” replied the 
lady. “ Our sitting-room adjoins my husband’s bed- 
room, and last night when dressing, he was walking 
continually from one room to the other, and thus I 
chanced to see how he drew the red pocket-book 
from the pocket of his house-jacket and put it into 
a pocket of the coat which he had put on.” 

“And a watch and chain he probably also wore?” 

“ Yes, and even a very valuable watch, a very rare 
heirloom — 1 could even show — but, no ! — ’’she inter- 
rupted herself noticing the eager glance of the 
police-officer. “ As 1 said, it was an heirloom, very 
large and old-fashioned, with a double case of very 
heavy gold. Both'cases were beautifully engraved 
— on each a pair of cooing turtle doves. This costly 
watch and a very heavy gold chain he wore on the 
fatal day. He also had a valuable diamond ring.” 

“ The ring has been found on the body,” replied 
Molitor, who had noticed the sudden change in the 
lady’s intentions with regard to the heirloom, but 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


59 


who was too delicate to insist upon a revelation of 
secrets perhaps. 

Mrs. Wigan then went with the officer through a 
suite of elegantly furnished apartments ; and in one 
of the more retired rooms they came upon the 
young betrothed. Erna was resting, helpless and 
hopeless-looking, in a corner of the sofa, and covered 
her face with her hands. 

A strange, overwhelming feeling arose in Moli- 
tor’s heart. He felt as if he must rush up to her and 
whisper a few words of deepest sympathy into the 
ears of the lovely being who suffered such great 
and sudden grief. Then, however, his look fell 
upon the young manufacturer, who was sitting near 
Erna on a low easy-chair, with a face that showed 
nothing but discomfort and annoyance. Involuntar- 
ily he turned to the mother with a side glance, and 
the radical difference between the two women most 
forcibly struck him once more. Mrs. Wigan showed 
a composure closely approaching indifference, while 
the daughter was weeping and sobbing in her bound- 
less woe and distress. For the first time Molitor 
felt a vague sense of mistrust creep into his heart ; 
it roused in him something like aversion for the 
proud, beautiful lady ; but the feeling passed away 
almost instantly as he saw her approach her daugh- 
ter, and, affectionately bending over her, press a 
long, heartfelt kiss upon her forehead. 

The search in the private house of the murdered 
man had- no valuable result. Everything was in 
faultless order. There was’ a smoking-room, a 


60 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


sitting-room for the reception of visitors, and a bed- 
room. The desk of the dead banker was down stairs 
near the localities of the bank itself. Here, in the 
upper story, not even a writing-table nor a private 
safe could be found. As Molitor was casting one 
more searching look around, he noticed in the smok- 
ing-room a photographic portrait in a rich frame, 
in which he at once recognized the features of the 
banker. 

“ My husband !” said Mrs. Adelheid, who had 
observed his taking the portrait in his hand and 
examining it carefully. 

“And a very excellent likeness!” answered the 
officer. “ Perhaps, Madame, you would be kind 
enough to entrust me with it for a little while — of 
course, without the frame. I fancy it might be of 
much use to me in our investigation.” 

“ It is entirely at your disposal,” said the lady, 
and Molitor slipped it out of the frame and put it in 
his pocket. 

From the private rooms of the banker the Com- 
missary next proceeded to the Jower story, where 
the bank and the counting rooms occupied a large 
space. He left the two ladies with strangely 
divided feelings. He hardly could help shivering 
as he recalled the almost superhuman composure 
of the widow, which reminded him of Roman types. 
Below, he found that the terrible calamity, which 
had befallen their master, had not yet been heard 
by any of the many clerks and employees of the 
Bank. In the outer rooms, where the paying clerks 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


61 


had their wire-screens and little piles of gold and 
silver, the usual crowd of the early forenoon was 
passing in and out in a continual stream. Molitor 
found here the two officials of the Criminal Court, 
which he had ordered from Seaton to meet him 
here. 

Accompanied by them he entered the first room. 
A liveried servant advanced and led him, at his 
request, to the representative of the great banker. 
He had to pass through three rooms, full of busy 
clerks, before he reached the private office of the 
cashier. He was a medium-sized young man, who 
wore his ash-colored hair parted in the middle, and 
kept his watery blue eyes, with their somewhat 
vague look, carefully concealed behind gold spec- 
tacles. The pale, coarse-featured face was covered 
with freckles, and the thin bloodless lips were con- 
stantly endeavoring to produce a smile — an effort 
which at once strongly prejudiced the police-officer. 

“ My name is Slummer,” he said, when the Com- 
missary showed him his authority for the inquiries 
he wished to make. “ I am the Procurist of the 
banking-house, the Chef’s proxy. May I ask to 
what I owe the pleasure of seeing you here ?” 

His terror when he heard what had happened 
was evidently sincere; still, Molitor could not but 
notice the cunning, almost malignant expression 
that for an instant swept over his face. 

“ What ! Our revered Chef has met with an acci- 
dent !” he called out louder than was necessary. 

All the clerks started from their writing and lis- 


62 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


tened, full of curiosity. A gesture of the Commis- 
sary warned the cashier to be cautious. 

“We had better avoid all excitement,” he said, 
“ at least, as long as that is possible. Perhaps you 
will be kind enough to go with me into Mr. Wig- 
an's private office, where I have to make some in- 
vestigations.” 

At first the cashier hesitated, but Molitor's earn- 
est request overcame this feeling. Slummer bowed 
and preceded him to a leather-padded door. They 
entered a room with two windows, bright and com- 
fortable ; in the center stood an elegant oak writing- 
table, with a number of papers, all in perfect order, 
lying on top ; near it a waste-paper basket, which 
had probably been recently emptied, as there were 
but few papers in it. In one corner of the room 
rose a tolerably large iron safe, resembling three 
other structures of the same kind, that had been 
noticed in the cashier’s room. The latter was desir- 
ous of asking questions, but Molitor did not attend 
to him ; he was anxious, first, to inspect the papers 
on the writing-table. He soon found, however, that 
this was labor lost, for they were all strictly busi- 
ness papers, and mostly unintelligible to an outsider. 
The cashier delighted in explaining the mysteries, 
and Molitor was grateful for it, although the infor- 
mation was rather urged upon him, even when not 
desired. Accidentally he also looked into the bas- 
ket and at haphazard drew out of it a crushed 
envelope. He glanced at the banker’s name, which 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


63 


it bore, and suddenly his face expressed the most 
lively interest. 

“ Here is at least something !” he said half to him- 
self, and then turned to one of his companions, ask- 
ing : “ You surely have the things found at Seaton, 
with you, Schmidt ?” 

“ Certainly, Mr. Commissary !” was the answer. 

“Then hand me the bit of paper we found in the 
snow." 

He cast but a glance at the few words signed 
“Johannes," and saw at once that the handwriting 
on both was the same. The postal stamps bore the 
date of the preceding day ; the letter had been deliv- 
ered between five and seven ; it had been mailed an 
hour before and at the most important office in the 
centre of the town. Nothing else in the basket 
proved to be of importance. 

“ Do you have the key to the safe?" asked Moli- 
tor, turning once more to the cashier. 

The man hesitated again. 

“ It is the Chef’s private safe," he replied, at last. 
“ I have a key, but only to the outer door." 

“Then please open it!" said Molitor, cutting 
short any further remarks. 

The contents were disappointing. The secret 
books of the bank, as well as of the business proper, 
were there, but nothing of interest for the police. 
Molitor noticed that a private, smaller safe could be 
seen in the upper part of the great safe. 

“ Have you the key to this also ?" he asked. 

The cashier said “ No." 


64 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ Then we shall have to send for a locksmith !” 
observed the Commissary. 

But one of his men pulled his sleeve discreetly and 
whispered : 

“ There is a most oddly shaped key in the bunch 
we found on the dead man.” 

“ You are right ; hand it here, Schmidt!” replied 
Molitor at once. 

The key did fit, and with a little trouble the iron 
door was opened. 

Here also the contents were insignificant. The 
first papers the Commissary found were two notes 
made by the manufacturer Richard Dunsing, one 
for thirteen thousand marks, the other for seventeen 
thousand ; both had fallen due the day before, and 
had evidently been paid. As he suddenly looked up, 
Molitor caught a peculiar, mysterious smile on the 
cashier’s face. 

Was it Mr. Wigan’s habit to keep notes that had 
been paid, here in his safe ?” he asked. 

Slummer’s lips curled to a stronger smile, but his 
only answer was a shrugging of the shoulders. 

“ Well, explain, I beg,” exclaimed the police- 
officer ; “ as far as I know anything of banking, such 
paid notes pass through the cashier’s hands ?” 

“This is the case with us also,” now said the 
young man, rubbing his hands and evidently gloat- 
ing over some unintelligible triumph. “ Nor can it 
be done otherwise in a business of such vast dimen- 
sions as ours.” 

“ But why then should Mr. Wigan have taken 



“OH, MOTHER, I CANNOT BEAR IT'”— iS’ee Chapter IV. 



THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


65 


these notes into his own keeping-, when they were 
made by his future son-in-law ?” Molitor asked in the 
act of replacing the notes in the safe, when a renewed, 
mysterious smile on the cashier’s lips made him 
pause. 

“These accepted notes have not been entered, as 
other notes are,” answered Slummer, “and I was 
wondering yesterday, for I had no idea that such 
notes were in existence, and 3^et Mr. Wigan never 
transacted the smallest business without my co- 
operation. When the two notes were presented for 
payment, the second cashier consulted me, and I 
thought it my duty to mention the matter to Mr. 
Wigan.” 

“Well, and what happened then?” asked the 
Commissary, expecting some important disclosure, 
not without oppressive apprehension. 

“ Mr. Wigan had them both paid,” was the 
answer. 

“Well, then it is all right, is it not?” asked 
Molitor. 

“Yes; but he took at least ten minutes to con- 
sider,” added Slummer with a malicious laugh. 

“ That does not concern us,” said Molitor, and 
continued his investigation, after replacing the 
notes where he had found them. In his heart, 
however, he declared the cashier was an abomin- 
able creature, who had very nearly succeeded in 
strengthening a suspicion, that was a mere germ as 
yet, and evidently unfounded. 

He came next to some newspapers, folded care- 


66 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


fully together. A look at the date showed him 
that the first was perhaps half a year old, and that 
from three to four weeks separated the numbers; 
all were the same paper, the Cologne Gazette. He 
noticed in each number an advertisement sur- 
rounded by blue lines, and each time it was headed 
with the letters “ I. W. A.,” the same which he had 
found on the crushed envelope in the paper-basket, 
and each time a post-office was mentioned, which 
was very near Mr. Wigan’s bank. It further stated 
that a letter with those initials was waiting for Mr. 
Wigan at this office. 

There were several large sums of money also 
deposited in the safe, but the Commissary pushed 
them carefully aside to get at a letter which his 
sharp eyes had noticed. It was barely visible in its 
dark corner, and had been caught in a crevice. He 
drew it out, and was not a little surprised to find it 
bear the same three letters, “ I. W. A.,” w'hich he 
had seen on the crushed envelope, and then again 
in the newspaper advertisements. Without hesita- 
tion he took the letter from the envelope, and at 
the first glance he saw that the writer was the same 
man who had also sent the other letter, that had 
been in the crushed envelope. 

The letter was dated “ Hamburg,” about a fort- 
night ago, and ran thus : 

“ My Dear Theodore ! 

“As these lines will show you, I have disregarded 
your advice and come back to Europe. I do not 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


67 


attempt to refute your arguments ; a look at me will 
convince you that as far as my outward appearance 
is regarded, you would never recognize in me the 
youth of former years, and thus the Past, of which 
you alone know anything, has no terrors for me any 
longer. On the other hand, I obey an unconquer- 
able longing to stand at least once by the grave 
that contains what was dearest to me on earth. I 
have as usual advertised in the Cologne Gazette^ and 
hope, therefore, that this letter will reach you day 
after to-morrow, at the latest. On that day I shall 
come to your city and go to the Hotel Metropole, 
which has been strongly recommended to me. If 
you do not wish it otherwise, I shall wait for you 
there. You will be kind enough to ask iov John 
Grover. ‘‘ In old unchangeable love, 

“Your Johannes.” 

Molitor had to read the letter over several times, 
and was unable to conceal a triumphant smile. 

“ This is certainly a most precious help,” he mur- 
mured to himself, but when he once more caught 
the cashier’s inquisitive look upon him, he soon had 
his features under control again, and folded the 
letter up in its envelope. Then he looked at his 
watch. 

“ I must lose no time ” he said. ‘‘ I herewith 
declare this private office, with everything that is in 
it, as seized by authority of the Criminal Court,” 
and turning to one of the policemen, he ordered 
him to stay in the room till further orders. Care- 


68 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


fully he then replaced everything he had found in 
the safe, locked it, and after he had asked Slummer 
to lock the outer door, he took the key from his 
hands. 

“ 1 have one more question to ask you," he finally 
addressed the cashier. “ How was your Chef with 
the clerks he employed ?" 

“ He hardly ever conferred with them except 
through me," was the answer. 

“And did you ever have to complain of your 
employer ?" 

An almost supercilious smile played around 
Slummer’s lips. 

“ I may venture to say," he replied, “ that I was 
more of a confidant to him than of a clerk." 

“ Well, then, you had no doubt the best oppor- 
tunity to judge of your employer’s state of mind. 
Have you recently noticed anything out of the 
way ?" 

The cashier stared at him ; he looked as if he 
had to prepare his answer. In the meantime the 
door to the adjoining room had been opened and 
thus the question was heard by a number of clerks. 
One of them, a bookkeeper, came up to say : 

“ For a fortnight Mr. Wigan has not been himself, 
sir." 

“ Ah ! what do you know ?" 

Slummer interrupted him arrogantly. “ Do not 
meddle with things that do not concern you ! Mr. 
Wigan had for six months already changed so that 
his friends found it hard to recognize him. God 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


69 


bears me witness ! I have had to suffer much through 
him ! Between us, be it said,” he added in a low 
whisper, “at times 1 did not understand him! 
There were rumors that he had speculated wildly on 
Change, but I never believed that ; our chief had 
too large a business of his own to engage in foolish 
speculations.” 

Molitor thought a moment and then asked : 
“ Did he ever speak of trouble — or have you any 
tangible point on which we could form a theory?” 

“ No, there were only his whims,” replied 
Slummer. 

“ Well, then I am obliged to you for your informa- 
tion,” said the Commissary, and slightly bowing to 
the cashier, he left the room, paying no attention 
to the curious and frightened looks of the clerks in 
the other rooms, whom now at last the terrible news 
had reached. 

It was by this time two o’clock. For a moment 
Molitor paused in the magnificent hall of the house, 
where marble pillars bore on high an exquisitely 
painted, vaulted ceiling. Then he turned to the sec- 
ond of his men, saying : 

“ Winer, I am going from here straight to the 
Hotel Metropole. You will instantly go to the 
nearest police station, and order me three men ; 
with these you come at once to the same hotel and 
wait there for orders from me !” 

The man touched his hat and started at once. 

The Commissary went out on the street and beck- 
oned to the near cabstand. When the cab came, he 


70 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


jumped in, calling out, “ Hotel Metropole !” and 
soon reached his destination. 


CHAPTER V. 

The Hotel Metropole was beautifully situated on 
the Square of the Empire, where splendid Empire 
Street ends, with its countless palaces and attractive 
show windows. When the cab with the Commis- 
sary drove up to the portal, the portier with his gold- 
headed staff appeared slowly advancing ; his prac- 
ticed eye had at once noticed the absence of all lug- 
gage, and shrugging his shoulders, he said negli- 
gently, “ No room !” He must, however, upon closer 
inspection, have seen something to alter his views, 
for suddenly he hastened up to the door of the cab, 
opened it, and doffing his laced cap, he said : “ Mr. 
Commissary Molitor ?” 

The newcomer nodded and, after the driver had 
been paid and was gone, he added : 

“ I wish to keep everything quiet. Only a few 
questions, my good man, in a private affair.” 

“Questions?” asked the portier, in rather painful 
surprise, owing to the horror such people have of 
the police. 

“ Well, yes ! But you need not change color as if 
you were afraid. This is nothing but a private mat- 
ter and I shall be grateful to you for such informa- 
tion as you can and will give me.” 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


71 


“I am at your service, Mr. Commissary; please 
come into my little box ; here we are safe from all 
interruption.” 

Zealously opening a door, he showed the dreaded 
officer of the law into a small room, which bore 
over the door in gilt letters the words, “ Fortier’s 
Office.” Within, the usual furniture of such rooms ; 
on a high desk the registers, sadly ill-treated by the 
travelers; here, a huge pile of Baedeker’s and simi- 
lar guides ; there, a horse-hair lounge, on which the 
hard-worked guardian of the hotel no doubt snatched 
many a short nap. On one walla traveler’s map of 
Germany, with countless hotel cards ; on the oppo- 
site side, the well-known rows of keys and compart- 
ments for the mail-matter of the guests. 

“ If I am correctly informed,” Molitor began at 
once, “you have herein your house a certain Mr. 
John Grover.” 

The man assented eagerly. 

“ I should think so, sir ; a gentleman, a gentleman ; 
he has more money than he knows himself. He has 
three rooms en suites the so-called Princes’ Rooms. 
Only four weeks ago the Spanish Duke of Medina 
Sidonia had the same rooms.” 

“ He is a rich man, then?” said Molitor. 

“ Well, if you keep your eyes open, you might see 
that. I was myself present when he gave the land- 
lord fifty thousand marks in gold to keep in his safe 
for him — and then he said he kept about as much in 
his pockets for current expenses. I should think that 
showed pretty clearly he is not a poor man. But, 


72 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


may I ask, Mr. Commissary, how you come to take 
such a special interest in this gentleman ?” 

“ Oh, never mind — it is nothing special,” said 
Molitor, with his amiable smile that criminals hated 
so bitterly, pulling out his cigars at the same time 
and offering one to his humble friend in the gorgeous 
costume. 

“You know we have of late been made to suffer 
very much by some transatlantic visitors. You 
know in that other hotel, which but for the ‘ Impe- 
rial,’ would be the first hotel in Berlin, they arrested 
only a fortnight ago, one of the shrewdest American 
forgers that ever came over here. This has made 
the police rather anxious about all specially eminent 
travelers who hail from the United States, and 
this is the reason why I would be obliged to you 
for such information as you may possess.” With 
these words he accepted the match, which the portier 
had zealously lighted, and commenced smoking. 
“ But, my dear Wilkes, why don’t you smoke ?” 

The man, evidently flattered by the Commissary’s 
knowledge of his name, smiled and said : “ By your 
leave !” and after inhaling several times, he became 
almost eloquent. 

“ Indeed,” he said, “ Mr. Grover is a remarkabl}^ 
nice gentleman ; he gives the best fees I have ever 
known in our hotel, and the bootblack says he gets 
his two marks every morning.” 

“ By the way,” said Molitor, turning round, “ has 
Mr. Grover ever entered his name in the register? 
How long has he been here ?” 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


73 


“ Well, I suppose about ten days,” and, all eager- 
ness to serve the Commissary, he opened the huge 
volume and hunted for the name. “ Exactly ! Here 
it is : John Grover, January 30th, from North 
America; resides in New York; came last from 
Hamburg. Rooms 21-23 i passport and other papers 
complete.” 

The Commissary had looked over the shoulder of 
the portier as he was reading, and was once more 
struck by the peculiar, slanting handwriting, which 
had struck him to-day repeatedly. 

“Yes,” he continued, becoming quite familiar 
with the portier, “ we poor people have to work from 
morning till night, get small pay and have to do 
things which we would much rather leave alone. 
But these gentlemen, like your Mr. Grover, they 
live just as it pleases them — if they are tired of 
America, they come over to us ; amusement is all 
they live for. I venture to say this Mr. Grover 
does not know what to do with his money ; he must 
be fabulously rich. Well, so much the better for 
your master, the proprietor — and I suppose the 
head-waiter also gets his share for all the little sup- 
pers and fine wines he furnishes.” 

The portier did not see the searching look with 
which the police-officer watched his features; he 
shook his head violently and said : 

“ No. Mr. Grover is an excellent man, as good as 
gold, but he does not know how to enjoy life. He 
is what we call a Philister ; no suppers, no fine wines 
for him. He lives like a hermit, does not know a 


74 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


human soul. In the morning he takes a walk ; then 
he stays at home all day long, and punctually at ten 
o’clock he turns in, as if he were living in a little 
country village and not in a great capital. At nine 
o’clock precisely he takes his little cup of tea, and 
that is all.” 

“ Why ! You make me curious,” said Molitor, 
apparently highly amused. He had stretched him- 
self out comfortably on the black horse-hair couch 
and was busy knocking off the ashes of his cigar. 
“ No intercourse, you say, this stranger has with 
any one, and only one walk he takes every day. 
What in the world did he come for, if that is all he 
means to do? If he does not mean to amuse him- 
self here as we do, he must have other and powerful 
reasons that have brought him to us.” 

“That is what I said myself,” confessed the por- 
tier ; “ for with the exception of one gentleman, who 
has only been here twice, not a soul has ever in- 
quired after him.” 

“ I suppose that was another yellow-skinned 
American?” asked Molitor, so carelessly that the 
portier wondered at his little curiosity. 

“ No ! I hardly think so ; I rather think he is one 
of our own men. I do not know his name, but I 
have seen him often pass our hotel. He must be 
another Croesus, or whatever you call these million- 
aires, for yesterday he gave me a cigar, a genuine 
Havana! But he did not find Mr. Grover in.” 

“ Ah ! And then ? Did this unknown gentleman 
wait for him ?” 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


75 


This persistent curiosity of the Commissary evi- 
dently' amused the great man ; he smiled super- 
ciliously and said : 

“ No, he did not wait, but he seemed to be put out 
and, in order to give you a full and faithful account 
of the whole occurrence, he wrote something on a 
card, asked me for an envelope, put the card in, and 
begged me to hand it to Mr. Grover as soon as he 
might return.” 

“ And you did so . 

“ Of course. I did even more, for ten -minutes 
after his return Mr. Grover came running down the 
steps and handed me a letter for Immediate Deliv- 
ery.” 

“Ah !” said the Commissary, apparently calmly ; 
“ then you must have found out the gentleman’s 
name, for, of course, he must have written to his 
visitor !” 

The portier's swollen features became radiant. 

“Upon my word,” he said at last, “that I never 
thought of ; but you may be right.” 

“ And what was the name?” asked Molitor. 

“ Upon my word, you are asking too much, sir. 
It is not my habit exactly to talk about hotel mat- 
ters with strangers, but as it is you, and you seem’ 
to be anxious to know it, I will tell you : It was 
addressed to a banker of our city, called Wigan ; 
his bank is not far from here, in Imperial Street.” 

Molitor felt as if an electric spark had touched 
him. It is true he had anticipated most; but now 
the certainty that there was some link connecting 


76 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


Mr. Wigan with this mysterious American had 
been established, and filled him with hope. 

In the meantime the door had stood a little open, 
and Molitor had for some little while noticed that a 
waiter in evening dress, with a napkin on his arm, 
was impatiently waiting there, looking now and 
then curiously at the strange visitor in the portiers 
den. Now he came in, and at once the portier said 
to him : “ This gentleman here," pointing at Moli- 
tor, “is very much interested in your Mr. Grover, 
who has the fine rooms in your story." 

“ He is at home," replied the waiter, looking at 
the Commissary with great curiosity ; “ he has had 
dinner as usual in his rooms, but he had no appetite 
to-day, and the dishes came out again just as they 
went in." 

“ And you now take a little walk to assist your 
digestion?" asked the portier, maliciously. 

“Pshaw! we must do what we can to keep our- 
selves in order I" replied the waiter, still staring at 
the Commissary. 

“ Ah 1 You are waiting on the American ?" asked 
the latter, indifferently. “ I envy you. I should 
like to know how such an immensely wealthy man 
acts when he is alone, and our mutual friend here, 
the portier, tells me he is mostly alone. Only once, 
he says, he had a visit." 

“What! You know that?" asked the man in 
evening dress, and drew nearer, feeling flattered by 
the politeness of this unknown gentleman. “ 1 could 
not be there just then, or I should have liked to 


TIie 'tell-taLe watch. 


7Y 


make observations. But the two were so myste- 
rious. They locked themselves in in Mr. Grover’s 
parlor, and then they locked the outer door too; so 
that not a sound could be heard. They ordered a 
bottle of wine, and when I brought it, I had to 
knock half an hour before they heard me.” 

“Well, that was mysterious, I must confess!” 
exclaimed Molitor, laughing aloud, as if highly 
amused. “ I wonder 3 'ou were not afraid of enter- 
taining Nihilists under your hospitable roof, and 
having the hotel blown up one of these days?” 

“ I must beg you, sir, to remember that we are a 
strictly first-class hotel,” said the waiter, haughtily ; 
“and our guests who occupy the Princes’ Rooms 
are not apt to have anything to do with Nihilists!” 

“ Ah, well,” laughed the Commissary. “ 1 was 
just telling our friend here, that not longer than a 
fortnight ago, one of these great forgers was caught 
at the Imperial Hotel, in their best rooms. Now, he 
is kept in Number Safe, and turns out to be a mere 
tailor.” 

“ Such things do not happen here !” cried the 
waiter, who felt offended by the free and easy man- 
ner of the Commissary, whose official position he, of 
course, did not know. “ Mr. Grover is a mighty fine 
gentleman, and does not take up with the first- 
comer — Molitor could not doubt who that “ first- 
comer ” was — “ and as for that one visitor, I only 
wish every one of us could be as well dressed as he 
was. The gentleman wore a full, black beard, 
diamond studs in his dazzling white linen, and a 


78 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


brilliant in his ring — oh ! it was divine !” And the 
youthful waiter turned up his eyes in ecstasy. 

“ What will you bet that I know as well as you 
do, how that man looked who has twice called on 
Mr. Grover?” asked Molitor, almost in jest. The 
two hotel-men looked in amazement at the likeness 
of the banker, which the Commissary had drawn 
from his pocket. 

“ Why, Mr. Commissary, where did you get the 
likeness. That is the visitor — to be sure ! I could 
swear to it ! Look, here is that scar near the left 
eye. I noticed it the first time I saw the stranger.” 

“ Yes, indeed !” said the waiter, assuming a very 
different tone now that he knew who his new 
acquaintance was. 

Suddenly the Commissary rose and in a tone of 
command, said to the waiter: “Go up and inquire 
if Mr. Grover will see me — or better, show me up at 
once, I am Police-Commissary Molitor and act in 
my official capacity.” 

“ Yes ! oh yes !’’ replied the waiter, turning deadly 
pale at these omnious words; “ but Mr. Grover is 
thoroughly respectable, and it would be painful to 
the proprietor — and to the guests — if in our hotel — ” 

“ Never mind that !” Molitor said, cutting him 
short. “ Go up now and ask the gentleman if he 
will see me.” 

At the same moment a number of electric bells 
were set in motion in the vast building, and the 
waiter whispered almost anxiously : “ It is time for 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH 


79 


the table d'hote. I pray you will follow me quickly, 
Mr. Commissary ; I have to wait at table.” 

Quickly the two men crossed the richly carpeted 
hall and were about to mount the staircase, when 
they were met by a bootblack with a number of 
boots on his arm. 

“ What on earth do you mean, Joseph, to come 
here with your wretched boots just when all our 
guests are going to dinner ? Go to the devil !” At 
the same time he placed himself before the poor fel- 
low, masking him as well as he could, so that the great 
personage who was just then coming down slowly, 
should not be shocked by the vulgar spectacle. 

Unfortunately, however, the bootblack dropped 
several of his boots, one of which fell upon the Com- 
missary’s foot. He turned round angrily and was 
on the point of pushing the boot out of his way, 
when chance would have it that it fell with the sole 
up. 

As Molitor saw it, a sudden tremor shook his 
limbs, and he instantly bent down to examine it. 
His keen eye had at once noticed on the moderately 
high and broad heel a brass horse-shoe, which 
assumed the shape of a heart. Without minding 
the amazed looks of the waiters, he picked it up and 
now saw that two very small metal-screws fastened 
the horse-shoe to the heel. At once he turned to 
Boots and asked : 

“ Whose boot is this ?” 

His excitement was so great that his voice was 
hoarse and indistinct. 


80 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ Let me see,” said the man. Pointing at the num- 
ber that was marked on it with chalk, he added : 
“ Number Twenty-one! That is the rich gentleman 
from America!” 

“ Mr. Grover !” added the waiter in his impatience. 

“ May I beseech you, Mr. Commissary ! here goes 
the second bell, and I ought to be at my place in the 
dining-room.” 

Instead of replying, Molitor simply uncovered 
the insignia of his office and said to the frightened 
servant : 

“ I order you, in the performance of my duty, to 
consider these boots as in the keeping of the Court, 
and not to return them to Mr. Grover !” 

He paused a moment, for just then he saw below 
the hemlets of the two policemen appear, whom he 
had ordered to meet him at the hotel. He called 
one of them up and gave him the mysterious boots, 
to be kept carefully. 

“ When did you clean these boots ?” he then asked 
Boots. 

This morning ; they were in a horrible condi- 
tion.” 

“ Very muddy, you mean ?” 

“ Yes, terribly muddy. But the foreign gentleman 
had a very peculiar look, too, when he came home 
last night.” 

“ Ah ! Mr. Grover was out during the night?” 

The waiter ventured once more to hasten the 
steps of the two speakers, but Molitor reproved him 
angrily : 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


81 


“ 1 command you to stay here ! I tell you once 
more, I am here in the performance of my duty !” 

Quickly resolved, he took all three men down 
with him to the portiers little room. 

The whole scene had taken place so suddenly and 
so briefly, that none of the guests who were coming 
down on their way to the two dining halls had 
noticed the little group of policemen, although sev- 
eral were in uniform. 

The portier opened his eyes wide when he saw 
Mr. Molitor come back in such company. 

Ah ! Great Heavens!’’ he cried, stammering*; 

I shall have to go for the Boss. Mr. Commissary, 
for God’s sake, no racket ! That would be too 
dreadful !” 

“ Never mind !” the Commissary silenced him. 
“ 1 must clear up your contradictory statements. 
You told me a little while ago Mr. Grover was a 
pattern of punctuality and went to bed when the 
bell struck ten. Now Boots comes and reports that 
Mr. Grover came home last night ^very late and in 
a horribly muddy condition.” 

The portier shook his head. 

“ I know nothing of that,” he answered. But, 
wait a moment — yes ! — now I remember. Mr. Grover 
did go out yesterday, about seven o’clock ; but I 
thought it was only to take a little walk. After 
that I was called upstairs and kept there for an 
hour or more ; but you, Joseph,” he turned to Boots, 
“you were on duty last night; when did Mr. Gro- 
ver return?” 


82 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ Oh, yes ! I saw him !” eagerly replied the ser- 
vant, proud of having something to report. “ It 
was about two o’clock. I had come on duty at mid- 
night, and had fallen fast asleep ; then the bell rang 
and roused me, and when I opened the door, a gen- 
tleman was standing there. But, Great Heavens ! 
How he looked ! I did not recognize him at first; 
his face also looked so different. And then, — ” he 
hesitated, casting shy looks at the police-officer, 
“ I thought I saw blood on his clothes.” 

Not a muscle quivered in the Commissary’s face, 
although his heart was near bursting. Could he 
have been so signally fortunate? ' Could he have 
discovered the author of last night’s crime in so 
short a time ? 

“ Go on!” he said, forcing himself to appear calm. 
“ You say he was bleeding ?” 

“ Not exactly bleeding ; he looked blood-stained 
— but, yes,” — Joseph added, while his confusion 
increased visibly, “ he had a handkerchief twisted 
around his left Ijand and said he had fallen from 
the tramway in the night, and I vvas going to fetch 
a doctor.” 

“ Well, did he let you go ?” inquired Molitor. 

“ Oh, no ! He took his porte-monnaie out with 
his right hand and gave me half-a-crown. ‘ Amer- 
icans,’ he said, ‘are not as delicate as Germans; 
that little hurt was no matter to him ; he could 
attend to that himself.’ Only he told me not to 
talk about it, because he hated all vile gossip. I 
was tired, and so I was glad he did not send me 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


83 


out. I took a light and showed him to his room and 
then 1 lay down again.” 

“But what is all this about?” asked \\\q portier, 
and the waiter also looked deeply concerned. 

“I hope Mr. Grover has not gotten into trouble ?” 

“ Will you have the goodness not to meddle 
with other people’s business!” the Commissary 
curtly said. “ Nothing will happen that concerns 
you ; so much I can promise you. Rather, tell me 
if you ever saw Mr. Grover excited?” 

“ Not that I remember,” was the answer. 

But the portier^ frightened by the officer’s stern 
tone, reflected a moment, and then added : 

“ Once I thought he was, that was the day before 
yesterday. Mr. Grover was coming home from his 
usual walk, he had been in the Park, and when he 
came in, I thought he looked strangely excited.” 

“ Is that all?” asked Molitor, and when the portier 
said “ Yes!” he turned to the waiter, saying: 

“ And you ? Try to remember! You cannot get 
away from here till you do !” 

“ But what am I to remember ? I know nothing.” 

“ Try, I tell you, try !” urged the officer, who was 
in a state of feverish excitement. “ You told me 
of that meeting between Mr. Grover and another 
gentleman — how did they part?” 

“Well,” replied the waiter, drawing back a step 
from the fire of the Commissary’s piercing eyes, 
“ they looked both very serious. Mr. Grover seemed 
to be rather cast down ; but we have so much to re- 
member, I did not notice very particularly.” 


84 


THE 'rELL-TALE WaTCH. 


“For the present, gentlemen, you will please 
observe the most absolute silence ; not even your 
master, the proprietor, must hear a word of all this; 
do you understand ? It may be an unfounded suspic- 
ion. In ten minutes I shall know what is to be done.” 
He then turned to Boots and ordered him to show 
him Mr. Grover’s rooms. “ Now we will deprive 
the dining-room no longer of this indispensable 
waiter’s presence. You can go ! One of my men 
will remain in X\\q portiers room below. You, Winer, 
and the other two constables, will come up with me 
and remain stationed at the door till further orders.” 

Molitor had to pass the half-open door of the din- 
ing-room, where all the din and turmoil of nearly a 
hundred guests arose, while everybody seemed to 
talk and the servants with their silver waiters were 
perpetually running to and fro. But he gave onl}* 
a single glance to the festive scene, and then ran 
rapidly up the thickly-carpeted steps to the second 
story. The servant was standing at the door of Mr. 
Grover’s rooms, and Mr. Molitor knocked. No 
answer came. He knocked once more, and when 
this also remained unanswered, he resolutely opened 
the door and entered. The room was empty ; it 
was probably the ante-room of the apartment, a 
moderately large room, with one window, but richly 
furnished. Here he stationed constables and 
then knocked at the opposite door. A deep, sonor- 
ous “ Come in !” was heard, and drawing himself up 
to his full height, Molitor entered into the presence 
of Mr. John Grover. 



CHAPTER VI. 

A very tall, broad-shouldered man of about forty 
vvas John Grover, who arose from a comfortable 
arm-chair near the window, to receive the unex- 
pected visitor. Molitor’s first impression of the 
American was favorable ; his face was pale, it is 
true, and the expression was not peaceful, but 
although the eyes lay far back in their cavities, they 
were large and black and spoke of pride and reso- 
llute courage. The features were boldly carved ; 
I the noble, Roman nose harmonized with the haughty 
dips. The whole face was eloquent with manly vir- 
itue, courage and love of truth ; only around the 
! corners of the mouth, where the dark, but reddish 
[beard did not conceal them, there was a mere shade 
jof womanly gentleness visible, especially when the 
! stranger was off his guard. 

^ He looked in great surprise at the intruder and 
ihis surprise became indignation when the latter 
! introduced himself and proved his identity by 
exhibiting his card. 

“ This is indeed a strange pleasure,” he said. 

Mr. Molitor looked up astonished, for he had not 

[85] 


86 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


expected the American would speak German so well 
and so fluently. 

“ I am greatly pained/’ he said, “ to have to molest 
you, but in our city certain forms are prescribed in 
our intercourse with foreigners, which have to be 
complied with — in this case, evidence of the identity 
and the hailing-place of the visitor. We make, of 
course, distinctions in different cases, and on that 
account I have been ordered, avoiding all publicity, 
to wait on you here at your hotel, and to beg you, 
as a mere ceremony, to let me see your passport 
and other papers.” 

A slight smile was playing around the foreigner’s 
lips as he heard the request, which evidently con- 
cealed an order. He rose from his seat and thus 
enabled the police-officer to see that Boots had 
informed him correctly. Mr. Grover’s left hand 
was in a thick bandage. 

Mr. Grover disappeared in the adjoining room, 
leaving the door open, however. Instantly, almost, 
he called out: 

“ Mr. Commissary, may I trouble you to come 
this way ?” 

Molitor hastened to follow him. He found the 
American bent over one of their colossal trunks ; 
he had opened it and was trying to lift the top 
receptacle. 

“ I am a little awkward,” he said to the officer; “ I 
have hurt my hand and cannot make much use of 
it. .Would you be kind enough to help me a little?” 

The Commissary went up to him and with ease 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


87 


took out the upper compartment, which was filled 
with costly linen. 

“ I am much obliged to you ! Now we can easily 
get at the necessary papers,” replied the American, 
impatiently turning over with his right hand a 
number of papers which lay at the top. “ Ah ! 
here is my passport ; here are my other papers, 
the offices I have held ; and here the personal recom- 
mendation of our Secretary of State, if you will 
be pleased to examine them ! But how awkward I 
am to-day !” he suddenly interrupted himself. 

In his eager efforts to find the papers and to 
arrange them with only one hand, he had upset a 
file of newspapers, which fell to the ground after 
fluttering here and there. Mr. Molitor courteously 
stooped down to gather them, and he had nearly 
finished the task when his eye fell by mere chance 
upon an advertisement in one of the papers, that 
was marked with a red line around it, and he read : 

“ W. A. Letter, Post-office y Chicago r 

The blood rose to his head at this unexpected dis- 
covery. But he controlled himself by a supreme 
effort ; with a perfectly unruffled face he handed the 
papers to their owner. Only one other glance he 
gave to the paper, skilfully turning it so that he 
could see the heading — it was the New York Herald. 

I thank you ! 1 thank you !” said Grover, care- 
fully replacing the papers with his right hand, 
“ this might stay here till later. Great Heavens ! 1 
never knew how dependent we are on the use of 
our left hands.” Then he returned to the sitting- 


88 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


room, carrying his passport and others papers in 
his hand. 

“You have injured your hand, you say?” asked 
Mr. Molitor, after the two men had taken seats 
again, facing each other. 

“ Oh ! it is a mere trifle.” explained Grover indif- 
ferently. “ I jumped from one of your tram-cars 
and fell. I had been absorbed in thought when I 
reached the station, and I jumped off sideways, 
instead of with the horses. The consequence was 
that I fell, and my left arm, close to the wrist, 
knocked against the iron steps, while the car was roll- 
ing away ; but, of course, it amounts to nothing.” 

While he was speaking, the Commissary had 
apparently glanced but superficially at his papers, 
though in reality he had examined them most min- 
utely. Now he returned them to the owner with a 
courteous bow and the words : 

“ Many thanks ; everything is in perfect order. 
Only I do not see the place of your birth mentioned 
anywhere,” he added, casting a searching look at 
the stranger. 

“ I have, properly speaking, no place of nativity— 
I was born in the primitive forest.” 

“ Is it possible ! You are a native American ?” 
asked Molitor, still smiling courteously. “ I hoped to 
meet in you a German- American, for, to tell the 
truth, you speak an admirably pure German. You 
must have been here often to acquire such a perfect 
command over our language.” 

“ No, by no means ! This is my first visit to Ger- 


THE TELL-TALE WATOH. 


89 


many, and all I learnt, I acquired in America. You 
know German is spoken there by many millions of 
men.” 

“ Well, 1 was told native Americans do not like 
Germany ; but that does not matter — ” He suddenly 
broke off when he saw Mr. Grover tremble and 
then seize his left hand by stealth. “You ought 
really permit me to warn you about your hand. 
Such cases are apt to look mere trifles and then 
being neglected, to become very serious. You 
ought to attend to it. We have just to-day had a 
very sad accident that makes us all more anxious; 
one of our most highly-esteemed fellow citizens, 
Banker Wigan, has lost his life in a very distress- 
ing manner.” 

With piercing looks, rendered keener by grow- 
ing suspicion, he was watching every line in the 
face of the American, and thought he noticed that 
the unexpected mention of the name had made him 
tremble for an instant. 

“ I just met, before coming here, a friend of mine, 
who told me that the great banker also may possi- 
bly have met his death by incautiously jumping 
from a car. The accident occurred in one of the 
suburbs ; in Seaton, they say.” 

Although the Commissary had purposely spoken 
slowly, to have time to watch the traveler’s expres- 
sion of face, he had to see very soon that his efforts 
were in vain. The transient emotion which he fan- 
cied he had read in Mr. Grover’s trembling lips, had 
passed away as promptly as it had come. He 


90 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


looked like a man who from politeness listens to 
what another has to say, but who takes no interest 
in it, and would be glad if the visitor would leave. 

“ I am much obliged to you for your interesting 
communication, Mr. Commissary, and perhaps 1 
shall follow your kind advice.” 

“ I must, however, have seen you before, some- 
where,” continued Mr. Molitor, without taking the 
hint of the American, who evidently wished to be 
left alone. 

“ That is very probable,” was his reply, “ my only 
amusement, while I have been in your good city, has 
been to walk about in your really magnificent park.” 

“ And, if I am not mistaken, I have even met you 
in company with this very Banker Wigan — Great 
God ! now only it occurs to me how I would have 
blundered if I mentioned that worthy man’s death 
without preparation to you, and — ” 

“ No ! no !” said Mr. Grover, shaking his head. “ 1 
think you must have been mistaken about the per- 
son ; 1 do not know your Banker Wigan. I have, of 
course, never walked with such a man in the park, 
although it so happens that 1 was at that place on 
the same day which you mention.” 

“You really do not know Banker Wigan .?” con- 
tinued Molitor, and the courteous smile never left 
his lips. “ Pardon me, if I try to unravel a little 
mystery, and pardon me especially, if I trouble you 
with these apparently idle questions — but Banker 
Wigan must surely have been known to you, since 
he paid you a visit here, at the hotel.” 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


91 


The American suddenly looked very serious and 
grave ; he said very haughtily : 

“ And have you orders to subject my going out 
and coming in to such minute investigation ?” 

“Oh, no !” said the Commissary, trying to soothe 
the American’s rising temper ; “the way I came to 
know it was this: I was speaking with \\\^ portier oi 
the calamity, which has cost Banker Wigan his life, 
last night, and then he mentioned the fact that the 
banker had been here only yesterday afternoon, and 
had asked for you, without, finding you at home.” 

“ An error on the part of the portier, I am sure !” 
replied Mr. Grover with repelling coldness in his 
voice ; and at the same time he rose from his chair, 
as if to indicate that he did not wish to continue the 
interview. “ I can only repeat that I do not know a 
Banker Wigan !” 

“ And 3 ^et, at the risk of displeasing you, 1 must 
differ from you,” replied the official, now also assum- 
ing a more formal tone ; “ you cannot but know 
Banker Wigan, as you sent only yesterday, by means 
of the portier^?i letter for immediate delivery to this 
same gentleman !” 

A dark wave of blood seemed suddenly to rise 
into the face of the American, and his composed, 
haughty expression vanished, giving way to an 
almost anxious look ; but only for an instant. Then 
he recovered his self-control and almost arrogantly 
he asked : 

“ By what right, sir, do you intrude upon my 
private business?” 


92 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


the right of my office, in the pursuit of a 
painful but imperative duty !” was the prompt and 
decided answer. “ Perhaps you will appreciate both 
my right and my duty all the better, when I tell 
you that the banker has been found dead this morn- 
ing.” 

The last words were uttered with great energy. 
Their effect was evidently deep ; the American 
changed color repeatedly, and drew his breath with 
difficulty. For a minute silence reigned in the 
room ; the two men were measuring each other, as 
if preparing for a combat on which life or death 
depended. 

“And you dare tell me that?” at last almost 
shouted Mr. Grover, stamping with his foot in his 
rage. “ I repeat, what have I to do with this Mr. 
Wigan? Well, I now remember — that gentleman 
had offered to transact some money-business for me ; 
I own a large amount of land in Pennsylvania and 
want to get rid of it. He offered to procure me a 
buyer, and called upon me during my absence.” 

“ After he had, a week ago, spent an hour with 
you here in conversation,” supplied the Commis- 
sary. 

“ But,” continued the traveler, paying no atten- 
tion to his visitor’s remark, “ he did not find me in. 

I thought, however, his offer was a good one, and,: 
as I intend to leave to-morrow or the day after, 1 1 
sent him that letter for Immediate Delivery, to lose! 
no time.” 

“ What did you say in that letter ?” j 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


93 


“ Sir !” cried the other, now thoroughly angered, 
“ you ask cursed bold questions. Is it customary in 
Germany to examine travelers in this way, like 
school-boys?” 

“You forget, sir, that I am here in the perform- 
ance of my duty,” replied Molitor, unmoved by the 
other man’s insolent words. “ I cannot even see how 
my harmless question can possibly offend you ?” 

The American still looked furious, but he evi- 
dently tried to control himself. Then he turned 
round and walked a few times up and down in the 
room. 

“ Well,” he said, roughly, stopping again, “if you 
must know it, I invited the banker to call on me as 
soon as possible.” 

“ Did he come ?” 

The traveler shook his head. 

“ No,” he said, curtly. “ 1 never saw that gentle- 
man again. Now you choose to tell me that he has 
met with an accident.” 

“ Murdered, I think I said,” answered the Com- 
missary. “ Did you really not know before that -Mr. 
Wigan had a villa in Seaton?” 

“ How should I know? You certainly ask curi- 
ous questions.” 

“Simply because I thought, after having spent an 
evening as a guest at a house, you would know to 
whom it belonged.” 

“ You surely do not mean to say that I spent last 
night at that villain Seaton?” cried the American, 
in an irritated voice. 


94 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


And yet Molitor thought he could perceive a 
secret horror in the man’s voice. 

“Yes, I must insist upon it,” he said with em- 
phasis. “ I have absolute proof of it, that you have 
been in company with the banker at his villa and 
have left it together with him. Now, the banker 
has met with the accident — if you prefer that name 
— immediately in front of that house !” 

“Sir! sir !” shouted the American once more in 
great excitement. “Why do you tell me all that? 
What the devil can you mean? You come to me 
apparently in all simplicity, I treat you as an honor- 
able gentleman, and now you dare, of a sudden, to 
suspect me in this unpardonable manner I” 

“ I cannot imagine by what words I could have 
suggested even any suspicion on my part, Mr. 
Grover,” replied the Commissary with great dignity. 
“ Do you not know that the angry man is always in 
the wrong ? I am here in my official capacity, and 
I must request, most earnestly, that you will answer 
my questions like a man. The case that brings me 
here is a very sad case, and you will permit me to 
add, that it is to your own interest to help us in 
unraveling a mystery, in which, by accident or for 
other reasons, you have played a prominent part. 
Once more I ask, will you admit having met the 
banker last night in his villa?” 

“No!” said Grover peremptorily, throwing him- 
self, with both hands in his trouser’s pockets, into an 
arm-chair. “ It is nonsense, what you are talking !” 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


95 


“Will you deny even if I prove to you that you 
were there ?” 

“ You cannot do that !” cried the other angrily. 

“ Yes, I can, for the traces left by your boots have 
betrayed you 1” 

“ You do not say so,” sneered the American, 
whose features, however, began to quiver and to 
tremble with inner excitement. 

“ Do not forget that you are in Germany !” admon- 
ished the police-officer. “ Every country has its 
own ways and methods — and also its fashions. For 
instance : a heel, with a horse-shoe inserted, such as 
the boots which you wore last night can show, may 
not again be found in this whole large city. I have 
your boots and, as 1 said, the track left by your 
heels in the soft snow and muddy soil, is undeniable 
evidence.” 

“ Ah ! that is cunning !” said the traveler, in whose 
voice the Commissary thought he now discovered a 
certain weakening and loss of spirit. “ 1 admire 
your ingenuity ; you will rise high in your profession. 
Perhaps you will say next that I have murdered the 
banker .?” 

“ 1 do not say so in the least, although I must con- 
fess that your utterly useless denial is calculated to 
create suspicion.” 

And when the other man gave no answer, but 
merely looked daggers at his visitor, the latter 
added : 

“ You injured yourself in jumping from aj;ram- 
way car ?” 


96 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


John Grover merely nodded. 

“ May I ask on which line it happened 
That I don't know !” was the curt answer. 

“You must know it, for people do not jump on 
board a car without knowing in what direction it is 
moving, especially at such a late hour at night." 

“ But I do not know it. Leave me alone with your 
questions !'/ 

Molitor had gradually grown very serious, and 
his features showed that he had come to a conclu- 
sion. 

“You do not know," he said after a pause, “ how 
grievously you injure yourself by this constant 
denial. To help you in realizing this, I will tell you 
that I know the nature of your relations with 
Banker Wigan — " 

Here he stopped suddenly, for the change in the 
American’s face was so sudden and so fearful, that 
he was startled. The man’s face turned deadly pale, 
of a sudden ; his eyes projected as if they were about 
to burst, and an effort to rise ended in his sinking 
back into the soft cushions of his easy-chair with a 
long-drawn sigh. 

“ What can you know ?" he asked at last with a 
hoarse voice. 

“ At least this, that you have for weeks corres- 
ponded with Banker Wigan." 

“ That is not true !’’ cried the American. 

“ Yes, it is so. You have also written to him 
from the Alster Hotel in Hamburg." 

“ You will have to prove that !" 



“ perfRct confusion reigns in the DEPAKTMENT.”-.S'ee Chapter VIII. 



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the tell-tale WatOh. 


97 


“ Nothing’ easier, for the letter is in my hands ! I 
also know from, it that you did not tell me the truth 
just now, when you asserted that you had never 
been in Germany. On the contrary, your letter 
says distinctly, that you are returning to Germany, 
i although you are liable to be held responsible for 
some early transgression.” 

“ 1 admire your ingenuity once more,” sneered 
Mr. Grover, crossing his legs in apparent indiffer- 
ence, “ but it is a pity that no such letter was ever 
written.” 

“You will be convinced of the contrary",” calmly 
but firmly broke in Mr. Molitor. The handwriting 
on the envelope of the Immediate Delivery letter, 
the letter itself, which was found in the pockets of 
the deceased, and the consent to a meeting at Sea- 
ton last night — all speak against you. The writing 
is, moreover, the same in which your name is en- 
tered in the hotel-register.” 

“All that is a mistake — nothing but delusion,” 
said the American, getting nervous. “ There are 
no doubt hundreds of similar handwritings.” 

“ But it is a rare occurrence that people corres- 
pond in cypher and inform each other by * Perso- 
, nals ’ in the newspapers, when they have sent a letter. 
I cannot be mistaken, I think, if I affirm that you 
always apprised the banker by an advertisement in 
the Cologne Gazette when you had written to him, 
while you were enlightened in like manner in the 
columns of the New York HeraldC 

“ That is absurd !” shouted Grover : but he turned 


98 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


SO pale at the same time that the words of the young 
official had evidently wounded him deeply. 

“ You sign those letters ‘Johannes,’ a name which 
is certainly not often met with in America,” the 
Commissary continued. “ Will you condescend to 
acknowledge them, or must I remind you of the let- 
ters ‘ I. W. A.?’ ” 

“ Sir !” cried the American, jumping up as if 
moved by a spring and staring at Molitor with wide- 
open eyes. “What spirit moves you? How do 
you know ?” 

He was evidently overcome ; his consternation 
was unmistakable. But hardly had the sound of his 
words passed away, than he repented ; he bit his 
teeth and made a supreme effort to appear calm. 

“ I repeat, Mr. Commissary, I am an American 
citizen, and I cannot permit you to doubt one word 
I say. You are utterly mistaken. I have never cor- 
responded with any Banker Wigan !” 

“ Then I am, of course, compelled to arrest you !” 
said the Commissary, drawing a step nearer. ! 

John Grover did not seem to comprehend the ' 
meaning of these words. With glassy eyes he stared I 
at the official. At last he seemed to understand, and | 
with ill-concealed rage his eyes flashed fire. 

“ Arrest me ! Arrest me !” he stammered. “ Sir, 
such an insult !” 

“Enough now!” broke in Molitor. “Once more, j 
Mr. Grover, I arrest you in the name of the law, | 
because there is strong suspicion that 3^ou have, | 


the tell-tale watch. 


99 


directly or indirectly caused the death of Banker 
Wigan!” 

At the same time he clapped his hands and the 
two constables in the ante-room entered. 

John Grover was trembling in all his limbs ; but 
when he saw the pointed helmets of the constables 
enter his room, loud sobs rose from his bosom. He 
turned 1 ound and rushed into the adjoining room. 

But Molitor was on his heels ; at a glance he had 
taken in the situation. He just caught a glimpse of 
the American, as he seized a revolver that was lying 
on a little stand jiear the bed, and before Grover 
could raise the terrible weapon to his temple, he 
had seized his wrist with an iron grasp. 

The two men struggled for a moment, each bent 
upon the possession of the weapon, but in an instant 
the constables flew to th5 assistance of their superior. 
The American could not overcome the combined 
efforts of four men, and soon the revolver was in the 
hands of the policemen. Pale and trembling John 
Grover stood there, his arms held by the latter. 

“Oh! This disgrace ! this disgrace !” he sighed 
and groaned. “ Why did you not let me die, sir?” 

His words spoke of such deep, heartfelt sorrow, 
that Molitor, almost against his will, felt deep sym- 
pathy for the foreigner, 

” I have to do my duty,” he said, “and I wish you 
would not make it harder than it is already. Arrest 
does not mean condemnation. If you feel insulted 
by being arrested, and if you are innocent of the act 
that is imputed to you, you may rely upon it that 


100 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


you will find in Germany judges who will do you 
justice. I have to do my duty, however, and 1 beg 
you will let us take you quietly and silently out of j 
this hotel, so as to avoid the necessity of fettering i 
vou.” ! 

At the same time he drew two black handcuffs j 
from his pocket. | 

“ Not that ! oh, God ! Not that ! Such disgrace | 
I could not survive !” begged the American. | 

“ I should be as sorry as you, if I were compelled 
to resort to such measures,” said the Commissary. | 
“Now listen to me ! You will leave the hotel very I 
quietly, accompanied by myself and this official in 
citizen’s dress, and get into a carriage. No notice ! 
will be taken of us. Then you will have to do with | 
the Judge before whom you will be brought. You 
two men will remain here arid see to it — ” he added, 
turning to the two constables — “ that nothing is | 
moved here, but remains just as it now lies and j 
stands. The rest the Judge will decide.” ' I 

As Grover and his escort were slowly descending ^ 
the thickly-carpeted staircase, the rattling of glasses j 
and plates and the clank of knives and forks reached I 
them from the festively lighted dining-room, while | 
an incessant hum gave evidence that dining and i 
conversing were not incompatible. Now and then 
glasses were touched, and hearty laughter arose ! 
from scattered groups. | 

Biting his lips, the American walked on between 
his two companions, attempting no resistance. Only j 
when he passed the portiers den and saw the man^ | 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


101 


with open mouth and staring eyes, gaze at the 
strange procession, he turned deep red in the face, 
and his chin sank still lower upon his breast. The 
constable who had been waiting for the Commissary 
with the portier, now at a sign from his master, hur- 
ried to the nearest cab-stand, and soon returned with 
a carriage, which promptly took the officers with 
their prisoner to the building in which the Criminal 
Court held its sessions. 


CHAPTER VII 

The Commissary of Police went, as in duty bound, 
first to deliver his prisoner into the hands of the 
jailer, and then to make his report to Judge Feilen, 
in whose court criminals were tried. The tall, old 
gentleman, slightly stooping, bent his still bright 
eyes with intense attention upon the statement 
which the Commissary of Police rendered. Then 
he nodded assent and said, while looking at the 
young official with mor6 than ordinary interest: 

“ My dear Molitor, I cannot but tell you how 
much I appreciate your action in this case. Under 
the circumstances you could not do otherwise. 
Nor can I doubt that the prisoner is to some extent 
responsible for the crime that has evidently been 
committed. To what degree he may be guilty— 
that remains to be ascertained.” Then he reflected 


102 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


again a few minutes. “You have left watchmen 
both in the deceased banker’s private office and in 
the apartments of the American ?” and when the 
Commissary said “ Yes,” he looked at his watch and 
added : “ I was going home to dinner, but duty 

comes first. I wish you would join me in examin- 
ing the grounds once more.” 

The Commissary was, of course, ready,'and they 
went first to the banker’s house in Empire Street. 

Here they found the clerks and the numerous 
customers all in a state of unabated excitement ; no 
one thought of business, but all discussed the mys- 
terious events of the past night. Voices were heard 
speaking very loud in the private office, where it 
was known one of the constables was still on duty. 
The curious stood before the thickly padded door, 
as if it had led to the Most Holy of the Tabernacle. 

The judge made an end to the animated scene 

“ When do you usually close ?” he asked. 

“At six in the afternoon,” replied Skimmer. 

“It is four now,” said the Judge, looking at his 
watch, “ but we can close a little earlier to-day. 
Are you not the head clerk of the firm ?” 

The young man bowed courteously. 

“ Do you know what Mr. Wigan’s wishes were, in 
case of sudden death ?” continued the Judge. 

“ I think it would be greatly to the interest of the 
firm to continue every part of the business without 
break,” replied the man. “ I have already discussed 
the matter with Mrs. Wigan, and she was entirely of 
my opinion.” 


THE TELL-TALE WATOH. 


103 


“ Well, that matters little to us — we are simply 
interested in finding out what was the status of the 
bank when the calamity occurred, and for that pur- 
pose we must examine the books and accounts.’' 

The Commissary, who was standing quite near the 
group, fancied he saw Slummer change color, and 
his instinctive suspicion of this cat-like man grew 
strongly. The Judge gave no sign of having noticed 
anything, but gave orders to close the bank for 
to-day, and proceeded to the banker’s private office. 
The constable who had been left in charge, reported 
that all was as it had been handed over to him, and 
the Judge requested Molitor to show him the papers 
which he had confiscated in the morning. This 
was done, and a thorough search of the room and of 
every piece of furniture was made, but without 
result. Suddenly, however, the Commissary, who 
was on his knees almost under the table, uttered a 
cry of greatest surprise. 

Well, what is it, dear Molitor?” asked the Judge. 

Instead of answering, the Commissary carefully 
smoothed a crumpled slip of paper which he had 
found there and read at a glance. He handed it at 
once to the Judge, who read these words: 

“ Notice. 

“ I herewith recall my consent to the betrothal of 
my daughter Erna to the manufacturer Richard 
Dunsing in Seaton. 

“ Theodore Wig — . 


“ February 9, 1889.' 


104 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ This looks as if it had been written in great 
haste,” said the Judge, after he had read the few but 
portentous words a second time in a low voice. 
“ The writer was evidently at a loss what to write 
and how to write it, and then when all depended on 
one word perhaps, he seems to have repented and 
left his signature unfinished. Then he crumpled 
up the paper and threw it under the table. It was 
there you found it, was it not ?” 

“ Yes, I did !” was the answer. 

“No doubt he meant to throw it into the waste- 
paper basket and missed it. Was it your Chef’s 
usual way to leave papers of importance lying 
about thus openly for public inspection ?” 

“ You forget, Judge,” interposed the young man 
superciliously, “ that even I did not enter this room 
unasked, and only when he himself was present. 
He was peculiar in this, that he saw the contents of 
his basket burned at regular intervals, and thus he 
felt no anxiety about the value of the loose papers, 
or about a misuse that could be made of them.” 

The Judge now turned to the Commissary, who 
had not allowed his great astonishment to interfere 
for a moment with his minute watch of the chief 
clerk’s features. 

“ You seem to have guessed right, dear Mr. Moli- 
tor,” he said, in so low a voice that Slummer could 
not hear a word. “ There seem really to have arisen 
serious troubles between the banker and Dunsing. 
And now this man lives, in Seaton! But all the 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


105 


Other evidence again contradicts such a suspic- 
ion.” 

“ There is more than one great mystery involved 
in this affair,” said Molitor, thoughtfully, “ and 
especially the fact that the payment of the note and 
the breaking of the betrothal had taken place on the 
same day, is very remarkable and puzzling.” 

“Yes,” said the Judge, “especially as the banker 
himself has accepted the notes — ” 

“ That is to say, if he has really accepted them,” 
cried Molitor, suddenly given expression to his ris- 
ing suspicion. As he looked around, he caught once 
more a malicious smile on the chief clerk’s face, who 
had evidently caught the meaning of his last words. 

“ I think we have done all we can do here,” said 
the Judge. “ I shall give further orders in a few 
I days. You, Schmidt, take all we have found here 
and keep it carefully in your own hands. To-night 
you can bring it to my office, before 1 go home.” 

As the gentlemen on their way out once more 
I passed through the different rooms of the bank, they 
I found them all empty. 

I At the door Skimmer also took leave of them ; 
while the Commissary went upstairs, in order to 
subject the banker’s living-rooms to a second search. 
If he had hoped to meet Miss Erna, and to be able 
to tell her a few consoling words, he was doomed to 
disappointment. Mrs. Wigan, who received him 
very formally in her sitting-room, told him when he 
I inquired after her daughter, that she had suffered 
i much from the excitement of the day, and had been 


106 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


compelled to retire. The physician had been sent 
for and apprehended a violent fever. The young 
lover had left the house soon after the Commissary’s 
first visit. The search proved fruitless, and the 
gentlemen, with the lady of the house, returned to 
the parlor. 

Now only, the Judge thought proper to inform 
the unfortunate widow that the man who was most 
likely the cause of her husband’s death had been 
secured and was now in prison. 

“Then you really believe a crime has been com- 
mitted ?” asked the lady, shaking her head. “ I can- 
not imagine who on earth could have had a reason 
for taking my husband’s life.” 

“ Nor are we quite certain yet,” assented Judge 
Feilen, “ whether an accident has occurred, or a 
murder has been committed. All we can do just 
now, is to inform ourselves of all the most minute 
details of your husband’s life during these last days. 
Thus we have discovered that your husband was 
yesterday in an unusual state of mind. Could this 
anger have been in any wa}'^ connected with the 
person of your intended son-in-law?” 

“ How do you come to think of him ?” asked Mrs. 
Wigan, very reservedly. 

“ Did you not perhaps catch a word here or there 
that he let fall in speaking of Mr. Dunsing?” 

“ I would rather not answer that question,” re- 
plied the lady. “ In our excitement we are apt to 
say things which we afterwards bitterly regret 
having spoken. Besides, my husband was not speak- 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


107 


ing to me, he spoke to himself, uttering threats and 
indistinct words.” 

“ Ah ! If we only knew them !” said the Judge. 

Consider, my dear Madame, if we knew what had 
caused this unusual anger in your husband, who was 
so little given to excitement, as everybody assures 
us, how important every little, trifling word might 
become ! Above all, bear in mind, I beseech you, 
that a man is now in jail, because he is suspected of 
having committed the terrible deed.” 

‘‘ To be sure, that is as you say !” said Mrs. Wigan, 
visibly moved ; but at once, she added : “ If it were 
not so very disagreeable to make family-affairs pub- 
lic when they concern nobody.” 

“ Can there be any question of revoking the en- 
gagement of Miss Wigan and Mr. Dunsing?” asked 
the Judge. 

Mrs. Wigan could not conceal her surprise. 

How do you know that ?” she asked, in an irritated 
voice. 

‘ I am not omniscient, yet I know much,’ ” quoted 
the Judge from a well-known author, politely bow- 
ing and at once adding : “ But I presume my guess 
for once proved correct ?” 

“ Well, yes. I must confess my husband was ter- 
ribly excited. I must premise that Erna’s engage- 
ment did not have my cordial consent. I thought 
it was not real affection on Erna’s part, but the 
gratification of seeing at her feet a pleasing young 
man, at the head of a large manufactory and pop- 
ular in the ball-room. I was utterly amazed when. 


108 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


last night, my husband came into my room, fever- 
ishly excited and talking wildly : ‘ I’ll stop that 

false, thievish way of theirs — how lucky it was the 
bandage fell from my eyes in time ! — to expose my 
one dear child to such a fate upon earth ! — but this 
very evening I shall tell the blackguard to his face ! 
ril make him aware that the engagement is at an 
end !’ ” 

“What! Did your husband say that ?” asked the 
Judge, after exchanging looks, full of meaning, with 
the younger man. “ If 1 understand you aright, 
your husband intended to go out to Seaton, to hold 
the manufacturer to account for something he had 
done amiss, and to tell him that the engagement 
was broken off ?” 

“ That was so,” answered the lady reservedly. 

“ Now, 1 also must beg to be allowed a question,” 
said Molitor, who had till now kept modestly in the 
background. “ Do you happen to know if your hus- 
band handed Mr. Dunsing a couple of notes?” 

“ I knew very little of my husband’s business 
transactions, but 1 think it highly improbable that 
he should have held any notes made by Mr. Dun- 
sing, since he often told me that his excellent finan- 
cial condition had had much weight with him in 
giving him Erna’s hand.” 

“ To make notes — and notes for a large amount — 
seems indeed incompatible with such a position,” 
said the Judge thoughtfujjy. 

The Commissary promised the lady of the house 
to let her know the result of the autopsy, and then 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


109 


the two gentlemen took their leav’"e. Wlien tliey 
reached tlie street they hailed a cab and drove 
together to the Hotel Metropole. 

“ The case is becoming more and more compli- 
cated," said the Judge, beginning the conversation. 
“ I have my notions about this man Dunsing, and 
yet this also is mere suspicion. Did you not tell me 
that this morning his manner rather prejudiced you 
against him?” 

“ Yes, 1 said so,” was the reply, “and after what 
Mrs. Wigan tells us, I feel more inclined than ever to 
look upon tlie notes as false. If they are a forgery, 
then Dunsing also has had good reasons to wish for 
the banker’s disappearance from the stage of this 
life, before dangerous revelations should be made.” 

“But the man denies having met the banker last 
night ! And do not all the reasons for the arrest of 
the American speak against the possibility of such a 
suspicion ; and so far I have seen not a trace of a 
common culpability of the two men?” 

“ Not the slightest,” assented Molitor. 

“ Nevertheless we must both of us keep a strict 
watch over this pretended American.” 

Here the carriage stopped before the hotel. The 
news of the arrest had in the meantime spread 
through the whole palatial building, and the pro- 
prietor himself appeared at once, anxiously trying 
to ascertain the reasons for such a painful measure. 
The Judge and his companion were shown to Mr. 
Grover’s apartments, where they said they wished 
to renew the search for certain papers. They found 


no 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


but little. The principal trunk of the traveler con- 
tained four open compartments ; the upper two held 
papers, letters and writing material. They ascer- 
tained thus the identity of the letter found in Mr. 
Wigan’s writing-table with the paper used by the 
American, and this was, of course, of the greatest 
importance. Besides these papers the trunk con- 
tained only a very abundant supply of expensive 
clothing — the boots showed without exception the 
peculiar horse-shoe forming a heart-shape. In the 
parlor nothing was found, except that in a drawer 
of a small escritoire one of Banker Wigan’s cards was 
lyi*ng. It was the card which he had sent, a few 
hours before his misfortune, to the American, and 
on the back a few words were written in pencil. 
They ran thus : 

“ I did not find you at home, but as it is impera- 
tively necessary that we should meet, I will expect 
you this evening, at 9 o’clock, in my villa at Seaton, 
Neander Street No. 96. You had better take the 
tramway from Empire Town to Seaton. Every 
child will show you to my house in Seaton. 

“ Theodore.” 

This card, the possessions of the American, and 
the fifty thousand marks deposited in the hotel safe, 
all was legally attached by the Court. 

After his return to the Court House, the Judge 
immediatel}'- sent for the prisoner. The scene was 
excessively stormy. Mr. Grover once more pro- 
tested most earnestly against his arrest, and appealed 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


Ill 


to the American Legation. But the Judge had 
nothing for him except a cool shrugging of his 
shoulders. 

“ We are investigating what will appear in all 
probability a crime punishable with death, and you 
are strongly suspected of being the criminal. Unless 
you recall the untruths of which you made your- 
self guilty this morning before our Commissary of 
Police, and resolve to answer all my questions 
truthfully, and to the best of your knowledge, there 
is no likelihood of your being restored to freedom.” 

“ Then you will throw me into jail like a common 
malefactor?” Grover cried, in a perfect rage, jump- 
ing up from his chair and looking furiously at the 
Judge. 

“ You had better answer my questions,” continued 
the latter, paying no attention to his remark. “ Will 
you admit having met Banker Wigan last night in 
his villa in Seaton?” 

“ No !” was the prisoner’s sharp answer. 

“ Where were you at .that time ?” 

“ I told your Commissary that I had a violent 
headache and took a walk in the open air.” 

“ From which you did not return till two o’clock 
at night?” asked Judge Feilen incredulously. 

“ Just so !” was the answer. 

“ That is very incredible, Mr. Grover.” 

“ Great Heaven ! If I had known that such a fatal 
accident would happen to me, 1 would have pro- 
vided myself with two witnesses!” the American 
cried bitterly. 


112 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ And in what direction did you take your walk?” 
the Judge asked, very quietly. 

“ 1 hardly know ; it is an old habit of mine to 
wander at haphazard through the streets of a town. 
I left the city proper and went into the suburbs.” 

“ That was certainly a very peculiar amusement 
in this weather,” the Judge said, sneeringly ; “and 
you walked really for hours in this soaked state of 
the ground ?” 

“ 1 had my head full of thoughts,” replied John 
Grover. “ Then it was I saw a tram-car coming up ; 
I jumped on and found upon inquiry that it was on 
its way to town, but when I told the conductor that 
I wanted to go to Empire Square, he replied that 
that was exactly the opposite direction. Without 
reflectiitg, 1 immediately jumped off again, and in 
so doing hurt my hand as you see very badly.” 

“ Very badly indeed,” added the Judge ; “for the 
jail-surgeon reports that the wound is not only very 
painful, but may possibly have very serious conse- 
quences. You must admit that this is quite sus- 
picious. A man in your position, with an abundance 
of means at your disposal, is not likely to be satis- 
fied with a handkerchief twisted around a wounded 
hand — but I will tell you why you refused to send 
for a doctor and actually gave the hotel servant ten 
marks to keep silent. You were afraid that this 
injury would naturally cause you to be suspected as 
soon as the news of the crime committed last night 
should have become public.” 

“ I protest against any such unfounded conclusion. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


113 


I protest most solemnly against being treated like a 
convicted malefactor !” cried John Grover, fearfully 
excited. 

So far, the calmness of the Judge had remained 
unshaken ; now, however, the constant opposition 
of the American produced some irritation. 

“ You have always lived in America, you say — 
were you born there ?” 

“ Yes!” was the answer. 

“ And you deny altogether having been in Ger- 
many in your earlier life, or having been born here ? 
What did you mean, then, by the words in your let- 
ter, which you sent from Hamburg to Banker 
Wigan, that you wished to stand by the grave 
which contained all that was dearest to you on 
earth ?” 

“ That is very simple,” replied Grover, quickly 
recovering himself after a momentary hesitation. “ 1 
had somebody who was very near and dear to my 
heart, who went from me, and with her went the 
happiness of my life. That happened ten years ago ; 
she fled across the Atlantic to Germany, and here 
she died 1” 

“ That certainly sounds very touching,” replied 
the Judge, scornfully. “ Probably this lady — for 
I presume it was a lady— fled to Banker Wigan, and 
it was by her means that you and he became such 
intimate friends as to call each other, German 
fashion, thou, in your correspondence ?” 

“ That was exactly the case !” answered the 
American, and his eyes shone brightly. 


114 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ And what is the name of her who has so prema- 
turely sunk into the grave?” asked the Judge, full 
of expectation. 

“ I decline giving any information on that object,” 
replied Grover, quietly meeting the searching look 
of the other. “ As far as I can see, the question con- 
cerns not my private affairs, but simply whether I 
was or was not in the banker’s company last night. 
I deny this and await the evidence to the contrary.” 

“You do not seem to stand before a judge the 
first time in your life, as you proceed so calmly,” 
he said, with bitter irony in his voice. “ How then 
is that past which you say you fear? In what court 
have you appeared before ? You do not imagine 
that we cannot find that out easily ? Do you not 
see that your utterly useless, continued denial only 
makes your position worse ?” 

The American make no reply, but observed an 
absolute silence. In vain did the Judge appeal to 
him, first kindly and then with sternness and threat- 
ening. Obstinately Grover insisted upon it, that his 
intercourse with the banker had been pureh^ official, 
and that he had not been in his company at the 
villa. 

“ But your denial is absolute nonsense and con- 
trary to all reason,” said the Judge, trying hard to 
read the prisoner’s eyes. “ The track left by your 
boots proves beyond all doubt that you were last 
night at the banker’s country-house.” 

“Pshaw! There are many feet like mine, and 
many boots 1” Grover replied coldly. “ Nowada 3 ^s 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


115 


all boots are made on the same last and fashion is in- 
ternational.” 

“ But you forget that the imprint of your boots 
is unique, and that the heels of your boots have the 
same remarkable horse-shoe in the shapejof a heart.” 

“ I had really paid no attention to that, but if it is 
as you say, why ! then that is probably the fashion 
all over the United States.” 

“ Weil, that is all I wanted to ascertain,” exclaimed 
the Judge triumphantly. “We only maintain that a 
man wearing boots that were made in America has 
made those tracks, and you are the man i” 

“You would find it difficult to prove that,” 
replied Grover, defiantly meeting the searching 
look of the Judge, “I presume there are many 
Americans in this city, and any one of them can have 
left those foot marks. Once more, I was not in 
Season last night and, as far as I know, I have never 
in all my life been there !” 

“ And will you also continue to deny having writ- 
ten that letter from Hamburg, in cipher and headed 
‘ I. W. A. ?’ ” 

When no answer came, he continued : 

“This S3^stem of denying everything will avail 
you rather little. A man of your culture ought to 
know that to deny your own handwriting is fighting 
against windmills.” 

“ Well, I will admit having written the letters !” 

The judge’s eyes blazed up with triumph. 

“.Well, then you have also written the promise to 
meet the banker last night.” 


lU 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ I regret I cannot agree to that. Have you 
never made engagements which you afterwards 
were prevented from keeping? But 1 will admit 
this also. 1 had promised to meet Banker Wigan 
in Seaton, but I did not appear. If you doubt that, 
prove the contrary. I defy you !” 

“And yet your Hamburg letter has enough in it 
to strengthen our suspicions. You admit directly 
that you are not sailing under your own flag. Now 
no man in his proper position does so unless he has 
reason to fear something in the past ; as is the case 
with you, I presume.” 

John Grover haughtily defied the Judge’s pene- 
trating eyes and then said almost contemptuously : 

“ Let me tell you one thing, Mr. Judge, you will 
save yourself much time and much trouble if you. 
spare me henceforth such questions. W/io I really 
am, that does not concern you in the least ; besides, 
my own authorities at home will speak favorably 
enough of me, I am sure. The one question is — I 
repeat it once more, but for the very last time — 
whether I called upon Banker Wigan at his villa in 
Seaton last night or not. If you can prove that, 
you may condemn me ! If not, you will please hold 
yourself in readiness to give me satisfaction for this 
fearful disgrace you are now heaping upon me,. 
The United States of America are not accustomed 
to allow their citizens to be treated thus abroad 
with impunity. And now ask what you choose— I 
refuse to answer !” 

The interview had to be ended here ; Grover was 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


117 


taken back to his cell. When the door closed 
behind him, the Judge jumped up from his chair, 
and with arms crossed over his breast, he walked up 
and down in the room, evidently greatly agitated. 
Then he paused before the Commissary of Police, 
who had been present during the whole scene, and 
said thoughtfully : 

“ An abominable, eel-like fellow ! But we’ll catch 
him ! I pray you will at once use every means to 
find out the previous life of our prisoner. The 
most important, however, is to ascertain the intim- 
ate relations which bound him and Banker Wigan 
to each other, and which undoubtedly will furnish 
the key to the crime.” 

“ I do not know, Judge, but the man does not by 
any means make this evening the same unfavorable 
impression upon me, that he made this morning,” 
said Molitor, very seriously. “ Especially, the 
matches found in the cellar near the body, speak 
against his guilt. He may have tried merely to 
ascertain the position of the murdered man, or to 
find out if he was already dead ; but some of the 
matches were found so far from the window that he 
could hardly have thrown them so far.” 

“ My dear Molitor, I know your well-known in- 
genuity ; but bear in mind, that there is no criminal 
case in which you do not meet with contradictions. 
The matches may have been left the-re as well by 
some tramp or vagabond, who perhaps spent the 
night before in that sheltered position.” 

“There T fully agree with you, Judge,” Molitor 


118 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


answered, slowly but sincerel3^ “ But still I cannot 
yet see clearly. There is no doubt that Grover and 
the banker left the villa together, and then parted 
close by the garden gate ; then they met once more 
and fell out with each other. But what is the mean- 
ing of that third track, evidently belonging to a 
common working man? I feel more and more as if 
Grover and the banker might have quarreled ; but 
what happened next — that I dare not guess. I am 
sure it was not Grover who threw the body into 
that cellar. I rather think he may have been the 
gentleman who spoke to the watchman, and warned 
him that an accident had happened in Neander 
Street.” 

At all events, we shall have to confront the 
American and the watchman, and at the same time 
inquiries must be made at all the tram-car lines to 
ascertain where the American got his wound.” 

“ Another mystery to me,” said the Commissary, 
in a low voice, “is what the relations between 
Wigan and the manufacturer may have been of 
late. I cannot help suspecting that all was not as it 
ought to have been, and that the banker’s sad fate 
is connected with this recent change in his estimate 
of the future son-in-law.” 

The Judge stopped his walk, and leaning against 
the big table, he looked at the younger man, deep in 
thought, and said : 

“ I also do not like these relations, to tell the 
truth. It would appear from what the widow gave 
us to understand, that her husband all of a sudden 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


119 


considered the betrothed of his daughter a black- 
guard and a criminal.’’ 

“ Still, if you remember, Judge, the widow said 
she was greatly startled by this sudden change in 
her husband’s estimate of the young man ; it must 
have been of very recent date, and 1 should not won- 
der if it had been caused by the presentation of the 
two notes that fell due on that day.” 

“ But why should the manufacturer have attempted 
to forge these notes? He could not but see what 
terrible danger he ran by committing such a crime, 
and how very easily it might be discovered. He 
must have also known that the discovery would 
instantl}’’ end the engagement.” 

“ You forget a trifling remark, which Mrs. Wigan 
made.” 

“ What was that ?” 

She said that on account of family mourning the 
wedding, originally fixed for the twenty-eighth of 
January, had suddenly been postponed till four 
weeks later. The notes ran two months ; conse- 
quently they fell due after the wedding — if it had 
taken place at the original date — and were forged — 
if forged — by the actual son-in-law. Of course the 
banker would have had to pay them, to conceal the 
disgrace and to save the family honor.” 

“ That would be acting like a thoroughbred black- 
guard,” said the Judge. The Commissary merely 
shrugged his shoulders. 

“ By the way,” began the Judge, glad to speak of 
something else, I do not quite like this Mrs. Wig- 


120 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


an ; she is so fearfully chilly and reserved ; so unap- 
proachable, and so perfectly composed. 1 never 
saw a woman so calm and cool whose husband had 
been, after a long married life, taken so suddenly 
from among the living and the happy. It shocked 
me. And why would she tell us nothing of her hus- 
band’s state of mind on that fatal day ?” 

“ I noticed the same unnatural reserve,” replied 
Molitor, “ but I thought it was painful to her to 
deliver family troubles and purely private matters 
to publicity.” 

“And I, I cannot suppress all suspicion — I think it 
more and more likely that there is something be- 
tween the manufacturer and this good lady.” 

This turn of the conversation was so very sudden 
and so utterly unexpected, that the Commissary 
looked at the Judge in amazement. 

“What!” he cried, greatly excited, “ you would 
charge the lady with being more or less directly an 
accomplice in her husband’s fatal end ? Do you 
really think a lady, such as Mrs. Wigan, can possibly 
be capable of such an act?” 

“ Oh ! do not get excited,” said the Judge with a 
faint smile. “ Nevertheless, my dear Molitor,” he 
added, familiarly seizing the young man by one 
shoulder, “ do me the favor and keep an eye on this 
woman. I am, for instance, deeply interested to 
know what kind of life this husband and wife can 
have lived. The whole case is full of mystery, and 
I should not wonder if it does not keep in store for 
us a number of surprises.” 


TFTE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


121 


“ 1 am, of course, at your service. Judge ; but I con- 
fess,” he added, helping himself to one of the cigars 
which the Judge offered him, “ I cannot share your 
view. I am rather inclined to believe in a conspir- 
acy. The banker may have become a rock of offense 
to some people, who may have wished to get rid of 
him. Consider, I pray ! Here were all of a sudden 
four persons, big, stout men probably, who turn up 
at a late hour of the night, when even the most 
crowded streets of our city are apt to be deserted, 
in Neander Street, which is generally very lonely 
even in the daytime.” 

“ Then you think that the murder was committed 
for the sake of robbing the banker?” 

“ That I am not prepared to say yet,” replied the 
Commissary, shrugging his shoulders. Watch and 
chain are gone, it is true ; so are the porte-monnaie 
and the purse ; but, on the other hand, real robbers 
would have not overlooked their victim’s valuable 
diamond-ring, although his gloves concealed it. 
Such rascals generally proceed very systematically ; 
and here, in Neander Street, they were pretty sure 
of not being interrupted.” 

Well, that may be ; but we, at all events, have 
done our duty and must prepare to do it still 
further. Perhaps to-morrow will bring us light.” 

He left his young colleague, urging him once 
more to be very careful in carrying on his investi- 
gations. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

The sudden and violent death of Banker Wigan 
filled the city with horror and dismay ; a number of 
sympathizing friends and acquaintances called at the 
house and left their cards. All who were admitted , 
were full of sympathy for the affectionate daughter, ' 
who could not control her heart-rending grief, 
while they admired the reserved composure of the 
widow. That a variety of rumors sprang up in 
consequence was to be expected ; the views of the 
majority, however, were as yet favorable to Mrs. 
Wigan. 

She certainly did her duty now, as she had always 
done, fully, conscientiously ; although accustomed 
to great simplicity in her own habits, even in her ] 
dress, she ordered the funeral as she knew her hus- 
band would have wished it to be. One feature 
alone created some comment : the funeral proces- 
sion did not start from the house, as was customary, ' 
but from the chapel attached to the Morgue ! The ‘ 
unusual abundance of wreaths and garlands, how- i 
ever, and the costly pomp of the whole affair, that ! 

[ 122 ] 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


123 


seemed to represent a small fortune in itself, made 
the people forget all such smaller considerations. 

The physicians who had participated in the autopsy 
had not come to a unanimous verdict on the man- 
ner of the banker’s death. The destruction of the 
skull was so complete, that no certain opinion could 
be formed as to the final cause of death. It was 
evident that the great injury done to the brain had 
been fatal ; but no one dare say that this was the 
result of a murderous blow or of an accident, such 
as a great fall. The reports were transmitted in due 
course to Criminal Judge Feilen, who, in common 
with his associate, Commissary of Police Molitor, 
developed a feverish activity in endeavoring to 
explain and to terminate as promptly as possible 
this unusually complicated case, which was sure to 
become a cause cdebre. 

In the counting rooms of the bank, in the mean- 
time, most exciting scenes were taking place. Theo- 
dore Wigan had been one of the most highly 
esteemed bankers of the city, and had especially 
enjoyed the confidence of the so-called middle 
classes of society, who had intrusted their savings 
to him in the shape of interest-bearing deposits. 
The honesty of the deceased was proverbial. Now, 
however, when earth had returned to earth, ashes 
to ashes, most of the depositors came to with- 
draw their money in order to invest it elsewhere. 
The bank drifted about, for some days, like a vessel 
that has lost its pilot ; the chief clerk seemed to 
have lost his head. He who had but rarely been 


124 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


seen in the banker’s private part of the building, 
was now twenty times a day calling for Mrs. Wigan, 
asking her a thousand questions, and making it very 
evident to her keen perception, that he wished as 
far as he could to shift the responsibility from his 
own shoulders on those of the widow. 

This continued perhaps a week, until one morning 
the oldest book-keeper asked to see her and inquired 
if she knew what had become of the head clerk. “ He 
did not come all day yesterday,” he reported, “and 
yet he is the soul of the whole business, and with- 
out him we cannot carry it on any longer.” 

The poor lady knew nothing ; Slummer had never 
told her a word of his plans, nor had he sent her an 
excuse for his absence. A messenger was there- 
upon sent to his lodgings, who returned with the 
surprising news that the young man had disappeared 
since the day before. 

“ That is strange, very strange,” said Mrs. Wigan, 
turning deathly pale, but preserving her compos- 
ure. “ I have never been able to understand how 
my husband could put such great confidence in this 
Mr. Slummer. I trust this is not to be an additional 
trial sent by Providence !” 

She was not left long in the dark. Only an hour 
later the same old book-keeper, to whom the widow 
had provisionally intrusted the general direction of 
the bank, came once more to her, but accompanied 
by the assistant cashier. 

“ Great God ! What is it now?” asked the poor 
lady. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


125 


“ We have sad news, Madame!” stammered the 
cashier, and Mrs. Wigan now perceived that both 
the men were very pale. “We have discovered a 
deficit in the bank. There are several people below 
who demand their deposits, and we find that in our 
books they are marked as having already been paid. 
This has led us to inquire more generally into that 
branch of the business, and we find that the most 
astounding disorder, in fact, perfect confusion, reigns 
in that department.” 

“ The police must be informed instantly. All the 
books must be investigated,” added the old book- 
keeper. 

“ Will you be so kind as to take the necessary 
steps?” asked the lady ; “ my head is so full of care 
and anxiety. You know my daughter is sick in bed, 
and although there may be no immediate danger, 
she is utterly exhausted, and needs my constant 
presence and most careful nursing.” 

The two men left her. But it was barely noon 
when she was requested to come down stairs. She 
found the outer doors closed to the public, but 
within she saw all most anxiously engaged in some 
new and startling activity. Great and unexpected 
events had evidently created universal excitement. 
A small man with a bald head, but a huge, gray 
beard and a red nose, played the commander in the 
place of _Mr. Slummer ; he did not even stoop to 
receive Mrs. Wigan. He was an officer of the Com- 
mercial Court, who acted as expert in the examina- 


126 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


tion of books and accounts — the widow learned this 
from Mr. Molitor, who had also been sent for. 

Until late in the night the whole force of clerks 
was kept busy in the bank, but the result of this 
feverish, unheard of activity was sad enough. It 
appeared now, most unexpectedly to all, even the 
most intimate friends of the deceased banker, that 
in the branch of deposits alone the greatest dis- 
honesty had prevailed ; enormous sums were stolen 
in a most inexplicable manner, and the forged papers 
which had rendered this possible, were such marvels 
of skill, that no human ingenuity could have been 
led to harbor suspicion. 

“Did your husband speculate on ’Change?” 
asked the Comptroller, with the bold candor justified 
by his responsible office. 

“ I do not know ; all this is so new, so strange to 
me !” replied the latter, shaking her head. “ I only 
knew that all the dangerous ventures in which my 
husband engaged, seemed to be favored by Fate ; 
they were invariably successful. We rarely men- 
tioned business ; but all that my husband ever said 
of his bank, and quite recent utterances especially 
made me think that everything was in a most flour- 
ishing condition here.” 

“ Well, we must not fear the worst at once,” said 
the book-keeper, anxiously, to his late employer’s 
widow. “ If we only had Mr. Slummer here, — he was 
the only one in whom Mr. Wigan confided, — he 
could be of the greatest use to us now.” 

A scornful smile played on Molitor’s lips. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


12Y 

“ That gentleman had probably his reasons for 
disappearing so suddenly. But we shall give him 
an opportunity yet, 1 hope, to explain matters.” 

“ Yes, I should beg that that be done — most 
earnestly — ” said the old man angrily. “ He must 
have known about these stealings. He alone had 
these deposits in charge. So far, the deficit 
amounts to a million marks ; what the assets may be 
is as yet uncertain; but I doubt that they will be 
half as much.” 

Mrs. Wigan looked petrified. At this unexpected 
statement she turned deathly pale. 

“ My God ! My God !” she exclaimed. “ What 
new visitation is this? The assets amount only to 
half of the debts — are we beggars then ?” 

A frosty shrugging of the shoulders was all the 
gray-haired book-keeper, who had himself lost all 
his savings, could say in reply. 

“ Of course the bank will have to go into liquid- 
ation,” interposed the Comptroller. “ It will be my 
duty to demand it. In the meantime, I presume, 
the bank had better be closed till a receiver can be 
appointed.” 

This was done. Mr. Molitor accompanied the 
poor lady to her rooms. She walked by his side 
like one in a dream, having no will of her own. 
She evidently did not hear the consoling words of 
the young officer, but looked around with aimlessly 
wandering eyes. Then, as she entered through the 
heavy, gold-embroidered velvet portieres, and her eye 
instinctively fell upon the costly paintings in richly 


m 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


gilt frames, and the gorgeous furniture, a shudder 
passed through her frame. 

“ All a lie ! All a lie !”she murmured, and a fixed, 
hateful look came into her eyes. “ Can it be ? Has 
he not only cheated me out of my happiness in life ? 
Has he not even secured the future of his only 
child ?” 

She had uttered these words in evident self-forget- 
fulness, yielding to the overwhelming grief in her 
heart. Now she became. conscious of the sympathiz- 
ing eyes of the Commissary, and she made a 
supreme effort. ' 

“ I am obliged to you for your kindness ; but you 
cannot help me,” she said, with a faint smile on her 
lips. “So much that was utterly unexpected has 
come upon me since I saw you the first time here, 
in this room, and I know not what the future may 
bring us. As yet all is too new, too unexpected, 
and I cannot decipher what is true and what is not 
true.” 

- “ Oh, dear Mrs. Wigan !” said the young man, in 
a tone of deep and heartfelt sympathy, seizing her 
hand and raising it to his lips, “believe me, 1 am 
sincere. I fear a severe trial awaits you and your 
young daughter, and I beseech you, allow me to 
share your sorrow. You hardly know me it is true, 
but I am sure you cannot doubt the sincerity of my 
offer ; 1 am honestly anxious to assist you as a 
friend, by my advise and my services, and if 1 am 
well informed, such a true and loyal friend will, ere 
long, be very necessary for you.” 




I 


MOLITOR STUDYING THE CIPHERS, 


See Chapter XIT. 




THE Tell-tale watch. 1^29 

“ I thank you, Mr. Molitor, and I will cheerfully 
accept your kind offer to look a little after us; but 
I hope all is not lost — we have at least one friend 
yet who is near to us — Dunsing.” 

She paused as she noticed a bitter, dubious smile 
on Molitor’s face, which her mention of that name 
had evidently provoked. Why did she herself 
smile as incredulously, as she continued : 

“ I shall write to him at once. He must help us ; 
it is his duty. Perhaps all is not lost yet ; whatever 
people may think of my husband, no one will dare 
doubt his honesty. He never touched a penny of 
those unlucky deposits, I could swear!” 

The Commissary left her with a heavy heart; he 
knew better what was before her than she did, poor 
woman ! That day the telegraph sent its messages 
to the four corners of the earth after the dishonest 
cashier, Slummer, who had evidently sought safety 
in flight. In the bank, in the meantime, -the pro- 
phecies of the Comptroller proved true, one by one. 
The assets of the bank were, on the whole, in excel- 
lent order and would have twice over sufficed to 
cover all liabilities ; but there was this enormous 
deficit in the deposits ! This was all the worse for 
the widow, as she had brought her husband no 
dower and, according to the local law, had no right 
now to ask for anything. 

Unfortunately, at this time there sprang up a 
report, — no one could tell how or whence, — that the 
banker had speculated at ’Change, together with his 
cashier. Gradually it leaked out now, that Slummer 


130 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


had ventured upon the most dangerous enterprises, 
in which enormous amounts were at stake, and j 
that — alas ! he had used his Chef’s name instead of j 
his own in these wild-cat enterprises, which were | 
almost invariably unsuccessful. The very first of i 
the month he had had to pay a sum of two hundred ! 
thousand marks! The bankrupcy was unavoidable, |i 
especially as the survivors had neither kinsmen nor 
friends who would have undertaken to come to their | 
assistance. i 

Under these circumstances the widow was un- ‘ 
speakably grateful when the physicians could at 
last encourage her again by the assurance that 
Erna’s fine constitution and perfect health had won 
the battle and the dreaded danger of a nervous 
fever was averted. She recovered but slowly, to be 
sure, and the former cheerfulness, which had lent 
her face such special charms, had left her features, 
while sad melancholy seemed daily more and more 
to invade her face and her manner. Her grief for 
her father, whom she had most devotedly loved, 
was so great, so overwhelming, that she scarcely 
noticed the absence of her betrothed. 

It is true that in the first days after the terrible 
calamity Richard Dunsing had repeatedly called 
at the house and inquired after the family ; at the 
same time, however, he had appeared excessively 
anxious to ascertain what steps the authorities had 
taken to direct the management of the bank. The 
more alarming the reports about the financial condi- 
tion became, the more rarely he appeared, and the 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


131 


last time when the young manufacturer showed him- 
self there, had been the day on which Erna for the 
first time left her sick-bed. He had found the poor 
girl sitting in an arm-chair, and the touching sight 
of this lovely, suffering being, seemed to have won 
his heart and induced him to show himself- more 
affectionate and tender than usual. But this had 
been his last visit, and the next day appeared in the 
newspapers the official notice of the liquidation of 
the bank. 

Now a mournful period began for the two lonely 
ladies — a time full of sore trials and bitter experi- 
ences. The whole household was catalogued, and 
the usual painful preparations were made for an 
auction. The ladies retired to two rooms, which 
they were allowed to retain for the present. As 
rats are said to leave a sinking ship, the servants 
had gone, one after the' other, most of them with 
tears in their eyes and genuine sorrow in their 
hearts, but not one of the maid-servants offered to 
stay. 

The clerks and servants of the bank also had all 
been dismissed; only the old book-keeper, who had 
known the banker from boyhood up, was not to be 
induced to leave the familiar precincts, and offered his 
services to the widow, as Molitor had already done. 

Mrs. Wigan had, until now, shown a really won- 
derful courage ; in dignified silence she had even 
borne the disgraceful scenes enacted by some of the 
more impudent creditors. Only one difficulty she 
found very much in her way : this was her daugh- 


132 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


ter. Full of tenderness and sympathy, she had done 
all that could be done to keep Erna ignorant of the 
calamity which had overtaken them like a thief in 
the night. She had kept her away from the painful 
scenes that now almost daily filled the majestic 
rooms, in which formerly all had been happiness 
and enjoyment. But she could after all not keep 
her entirely free from all contact with the world, 
especially since she was once more allowed to be up 
and about. Even the silvery threads which ap- 
peared in the dark hair of her dignified, pale 
mother, made her aware that she suffered, and she 
offered to share her sufferings. 

But when the poor widow was alone, the fixed 
rigidity of her features disappeared and the fine, 
spiritual lines in her face spoke of utter despair. 
Then she sank into an easy-chair, breaking down 
under the unbearable burden, and folding her hands 
on her bosom, sigh after sigh would arise and betray 
the hopeless despair that had invaded her heart. 
The change in her circumstances was too great and 
too sudden ; she could not conceive it yet, that the 
pleasant, comfortable life, to which she had ever 
been accustomed, should be gone forever, while on 
the stony and thorny path on which she was to walk 
hereafter, nothing awaited her but anxiety and care 
and the struggle for daily bread. 

The old book-keeper had done all that could be 
done to prevent the ruin of the great banking- 
house ; even when it had to go into liquidation, he 
had not lost all hope. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


133 


“ It is true the misfortune is great,” he said to 
Mrs. Wigan, “ but every sensible man must see that 
it was not the fault of our esteemed Chef ; it was 
that hyprocrite, that rascal Skimmer, — may God 
judge him ! Perhaps, Mrs. Wigan, if you were to 
call on some of the most important creditors, they 
might give you a better answer. They are mostly 
wealthy men, who will not mind their losses much. 
Who knows but when the creditors hold their meet- 
ing, they might go so far as to put aside a small 
capital, the interest of which would enable you to 
lead a retired life. Oh, I should be so happy, so 
well contented, if that could be done ! As to Miss 
Erna — no fear for her ! We all know whose happy 
wife she will be !” 

The good old man did not see the bitterness that 
appeared in the lady’s features. Undismayed by 
her silence, he drew forth a small list of the princi- 
pal creditors, and explained to her what he thought 
she ought to say in each case, as he knew them all 
intimately. 

After he had left her, the poor widow sank back 
in her chair, a picture of unutterable grief. For 
hours she remained thus, motionless; only a violent, 
spasmodic tremor betrayed the storm that w^as rag- 
ing within. At last, however, she triumphed; her 
pride, till now the motive of all her actions, was 
overcome. She determined to humble herself. 

“For your sake I will do it,” she murmured to 
herself; “for your sake, my child ! God is my wit- 
ness; I would rather die than to utter a word of 


134 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


supplication. But I fear for you, my sweet Erna ! 
I fear much that the future will not bring you all 
that in the days of your childhood we and you have 
hoped for — and on that account I am ready to take 
this heavy burden upon myself.” 

She k^pt her word. Her first visit was paid to 
another great banker in the city, called Blackwater, 
a dear old friend of her husband’s. He received 
her very affably, perhaps even cordially ; but when 
she made known the real reason of her coming, he 
cooled off perceptibly. 

“This is a bad business, my dear Mrs. Wigan, and 
I hardly know what to say. As far as I know how 
things stand, I must lose nearly a hundred thousand 
marks, and you must admit it is a pretty hard thing 
you ask of me---to return to you a part of the little 
fraction of my claim that 1 may be allotted. If I 
had ever anticipated that your esteemed husband’s 
position was such a very bad one — ” here he broke 
off, and added, after a short pause — “ it was not right 
in him to profit in this way, by the confidence we all 
put in him.” 

Here he stopped, seeing the almost despairing 
look of the poor sufferer. 

“ My husband never meant to deceive you, God 
knows! Not he, but his cashier, Slummer, who is 
now sought for everywhere by the police, a reward 
being offered for his capture; he is the author of 
our ruin,” Mrs. Wigan replied to him. “ My husband 
may be blamable in some respects — which of us is 
not? — but in business he was a man of honor I” 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


135 


The banker significantly shrugged his shoulders. 

“ I will not say you are mistaken, Madame, but 
there are ugly reports current. I will, however, see, 
when the creditors hold their final meeting, what 
can be done for you and your daughter. You may 
rely upon me. But, to tell the truth, I would advise 
you rather to remain independent; it is always a 
bad thing to depend on the good will of others.” 

Deeply wounded, the poor widow took leave. 
The banker perhaps felt that he had gone too far, 
and tried to make amends by increased amiability. 
But his efforts were in vain ; the iron had sunk too 
deep into the heart of the unfortunate lady ; she bit 
her lips and went away silent. 

And yet this was not the greatest humiliation 
which she had to encounter on her sorrowful errand. 
The more of the former friends of her husband, who 
were now his creditors, she saw, the more her con- 
fidence sank and hope after hope died out in her 
breaking heart. She had never thought too well of 
men. She was too keen and too proud at the same 
time, not to see in society how much that is super- 
ficial or mere form is concealed under all the fine 
phrases that are offered to the rich and the great. 
It was a terrible humiliation, therefore, to this 
haughty woman to go a suppliant from house to 
house — but her mother love overcame all, and for 
Erna’s sake she drained the cup to the dregs. And 
bitter were they indeed — the same men whoa short 
time ago paid most assiduous court to her, who had 
flattered and complimented her in order to receive 


136 


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one of those much-coveted invitations to the famous 
“ soirees" at her house, now treated her with studied 
coldness and with a painful absence of even the 
outer forms of respect, to which she had ever been 
accustomed. 

Embittered and cast down she returned home. 
She shuddered at the idea of repeating the effort ; 
and the old book-keeper, to whom she reported her 
ill-success, suppressing only the worst humiliation, 
was forced to confess that here nothing more was 
to be hoped for now. And yet the widow and the 
orphan had not experienced the worst blow that 
awaited them, and was to extinguish in Mrs. Wigan’s 
heart the last spark of faith in human loyalty. This 
happened on the same day on which, in execution of 
the judicial decree, the last articles of furniture 
were removed from the house. Mrs. Wigan fol- 
lowed with fixed eyes and unconscious ears the words 
of the official who announced to her that she would 
be allowed to stay but a few days longer in the 
house, as it was to be publicly sold very soon. 

“ Weshallnot claimyour indulgence that long," she 
stammered, and the tremor that passed through her 
whole body gave evidence of her great excitement. 
The man hardly left her with the last of the heavily, 
laden furniture vans when the bell rang, and the let- 
ter carrier brought a letter for the widow. She 
recognized at once Dunsing’s handwriting and hes- 
itated to open it; an ineffably bitter smile played 
about her lips. She knew the contentsof the letter be- 
forehand, for she had read in the whole manner of the 


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137 


young man that there was no trust to be put in 

him. 

“ Poor, dear Erna!” she murmured to herself. ^‘It 
is a hard schooling which Fate sends you in your 
early youth. But it may be that our Heavenly 
Father, who knows better than we do, thus protects 
you from a greater misfortune.” 

With trembling hand she then opened the cover 
and unfolded the sheet within. An expression of 
supreme contempt appeared on her face as she 
glanced over the letter — it was only what she had all 
the time expected. 

“ This letter will be the best medicine for the poor 
child ; she will yet thank Heaven not to have be- 
come the wife of that wretch who only coveted her 
wealth and knew not how to appreciate her pure, 
lovely heart!” 

Once more the bell rang. This time it was the 
Commissary of Police, Mr. Molitor. The few weeks 
that had passed since his first visit at the house had 
brought about a cer.tain intimacy between the 
banker’s widow and the modest, but manly young 
official. Erna did not often appear when he called ; 
she was still too deep in her grief. 

“Read that, my young friend!” Mrs. Wigan said, 
offering him the letter. He only glanced at the first 
lines, knowing full well what to expect from such a 
man. 

“I thought so, in fact I knew that this would 
come,” he answered with a contemptuous smile. 
“ Mr. Richard D unsing is not the man to court a 


138 


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woman for her own sake. But how will you ever 
tell Miss Erna? Will she be able to survive the 
blow he added, in a voice of genuine sympathy. 

“ I hope, on the contrary, this letter will give her 
strength ; she will feel that she now must stand 
alone,'' replied the lady. Then casting an almost 
hostile look at the deserted rooms, she added : 
“Only let us get away from here ! Away! This 
air oppresses me ! 1 cannot remain any longer here, 

where I have so long been at home ! Oh 1" she sud- 
denly burst forth, as if utterly overcome by a new 
horror, “ Oh I if I had but fled at once, long, long 
ago, when I first saw the heart in its true character, 
that had so long pretended to love me 1 But, oh, my 
Erna ! it was for your sake I determined to bear and 
to be silent ; for your sake I endured these long 
years of marital unhappiness — and after all it was in 
vain ! Now I cannot protect you from the worst, 
my child I I am so weak, so miserably infirm and 
powerless — not even the daily bread can I secure 
to us 1" 

The long pent-up bitterness of her grief had all of 
a sudden overflowed, breaking down the barriers of 
her grief and her pride — almost unconsciously she 
had uttered these fearful accusations. Now she as 
suddenly became aware of Mr. Molitor’s presence, 
and by a truly grand effort she composed herself, 
and although a sudden, most violent grief seemed to 
have seized her, she turned to the young man and 
said : 

“ You were not to have heard these words, my 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


139 


young friend. Pain, great pain, is like insanity ; 
both make us delirious." 

Moved by heartfelt sympathy, the young man 
seized her hand and said : 

“ Permit me, dear Mrs. Wigan, to honor your 
sorrow, for I comprehend it. My official duties 
make me aware of many a private tragedy, and thus 
I have known for some years what a deep abyss 
separated you and your husband." 

Unutterable horror distorted the widow’s fea- 
tures at this revelation, and she could not help say- 
ing bitterly : 

“ No ! Do not speak of him now ! He has 
appeared before his judge on high, and I trust, it is 
my fervent prayer daily, that he may have found 
mercy ! 1 have borne my sufferings all these years 

in silence, but now and then we poor women can no 
longer check and restrain the angry heart. Ah ! 
Mr. Molitor ! you do not know what a fearful thing 
it is to look back upon a long life and to have to 
acknowledge that it has been a failure." 

For a few moments she remained motionless, des- 
pair in all her features ; then suddenly she seized 
the young man’s hands, and fervently pressing them, 
she said : 

You do not know, my dear friend, what a com- 
fort it is to know in the midst of our desolation, that 
there is at least one human soul that means well with 
us. 1 thank you, thank you heartily, for your kind 
sympathy." 

Molitor led her to a chair, and she sank down ex- 


140 


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hausted. They remained silent for some time, but 
at last the visitor thought it would behest to occupy 
the poor lady’s mind with some other thoughts, that 
might lead her away from the absorbing contempla- 
tion of her own sorrow. 

“May I make a suggestion, Mrs. Wigan?” he 
said. “ You once or twice mentioned that you were 
quite an artist in painting and loved the occupation. 
Upon the strength of this, I have seen some of our 
leading men in that line, and two or three of them 
promised that they would be very happy to buy 
some of your work on ivory or in other, perhaps 
more fashionable forms, and they would pay well, 
they added.” 

“I am truly obliged to you, my dear Mr. Moli- 
tor, and 1 accept the offer very gratefully. First, 
however, we must find lodgings for myself and my 
daughter.” 

“ Perhaps I can provide for that also.” 

“ How shall I ever thank you enough for all you 
are doing for us, my dear Mr. Molitor? We have 
barely met, and yet you are already dear to me. 
To be sure, my own son could not have acted more 
lovingly in my behalf, and you take his place, you 
whom many would have expected to find on the 
opposite side, inimical to my poor husband — and 
his family.” 

“ But you know, Madame, what I think in my 
heart about this unfortunate matter. Besides, I told 
you the other day, how, never knowing the bless- 
ing of parents, or of brothers and sisters, I have 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


141 


grown up in most perfect solitude, and have given 
myself up, heart and soul, to my official duties. It 
is, therefore, an act of great kindness, if you permit 
me to draw nearer to you ; it is such a comfort for 
me to associate with truly good and noble friends. 
My profession is a very sad one ; it shows us almost 
exclusively the dark side of man’s character, and I 
hope and trust, therefore, you will kindly permit me 
to assist you, and to stand by you, whenever you 
may need aid by counsel or by deed.” 

The wddow made no reply, but her brightening 
expression showed the young man how fully she 
appreciated his generous offer. 

“ I have bespoken rooms for you, which 1 dis- 
covered by the merest accident. It was thus: 
There is in our prison, where persons are kept till 
their trial comes on, a socialistic mechanic, called 
Tibbeck, who has committed some trifling breach of 
the law, who is to remain in jail five weeks longer. 
This man, who is generally a very good fellow, 
gave me lately occasion to ask him if his zeal for 
the ‘ laboring classes,’ as he called them, had cooled 
off in prison? He became talkative, and told me 
that in future he meant to work more and to drink 
less. His wife, he added, had recently inherited a 
little money and, following his advice, invested it 
in furniture for two or three rooms, which he had 
rented the day before. These they meant to rent 
out to nice tenants. He himself would go back to 
his handicraft, as a joiner ; and thus the couple with 
their nearly grown daughter were looking forward 


142 


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to a happier future. I do not know what it was 
that made me take a special, warm interest in the 
man’s story, but the next moment I thought of you 
and Miss Erna. I said, of course, nothing to the 
man, but yesterday I made my way to Hospital 
Street, where, he lives, and found that he had 
secured the second story of a nice, cheerful looking 
house. Mrs. Tibbeck, who seems to be a tidy, sen- 
sible woman, showed me the rooms they wish to 
rent out, and only asked thirty marks rent a month. 
As this price seemed to me reasonable, and the 
woman was anxious to secure good tenants, — 
genteel lodgers she called them — I half engaged to 
take the rooms, and now beg to submit the matter 
to your decision.” 

Unconsciously Mrs. Wigan’s eyes filled with tears 
and, deeply moved, she shook the 3^oung man’s 
hand. 

“ I cannot tell you how deeply I feel obliged to 
you,” she whispered. “ Certainly Erna and I will 
go, to-day, to secure the rooms. Ah ! how happy 
we shall be when these wretched days come at last 
to an end, and we can look forward to an honest, 
modest life, secure in the reward of our own indus- 
try! We shall bury the Past, and pray that God 
may send us a peaceful Future I” 

“God grant it!” said Molitor, also touched by 
such sweet resignation, and reverently kissed the 
widow’s hand. 

“Now I must go and see Erna. Will you come 
with me ? I pray you will, for I am not sure but 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


143 


she will take this new and unexpected change more 
calmly, perhaps, when you are present.” 


CHAPTER IX. 

The investigation of the American’s antecedents 
liad on the whole a favorable result. The Consul- 
General of the United States, to whose protection 
Mr. Grover had appealed, had written home to 
obtain the desired information. The reports con- 
firmed the statement made by the prisoner, that he 
was in his own State a highl3^-esteemed and very 
rich man; that he owned very large landed prop- 
erty in several parts of the Union, and was also 
interested in many important industrial enterprises. 
Only in one point the home authorities differed with 
his own statement. He professed to be a native 
American ; the American officials, however, declared 
that, as far as was known, John Grover had come 
many years ago to America and was probably a 
native of Germany. The same fact seemed to be 
confirmed by his correspondence with Banker 
Wigan. 

But it was in vain that the Judge represented to 
the prisoner how utterly absurd and unprofitable 
his denial was — only calculated to strengthen the 
suspicion against him. With perfectly imcompre- 
hensible obstinacy the American maintained that he 
had never before in his life been in Germany, what 


144 


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discrepancy there appeared he tried to explain by 
the fact that he was born in the Far West, in the 
primitive forest, far from any vestige of civilization. 
His parents, he said, were regular trappers, born in 
Germany, who had led a most adventurous, precar- 
ious life in the Indian Territory, hunting and deal- 
ing in pelts. Only when already twelve years old 
he, the boy, had for the first time seen a town, and 
he could distinctly remember with what amazement 
he had then beheld the din and turmoil of a city. 
This impression had, moreover, been so powerful, 
that he had returned with his parents into the 
wilderness and only left it for ever when a young 
man of twenty odd years. Then he had resided 
alternately on the Pacific and on the Atlantic Coast, 
now in San Francisco and now in New York. As 
the backwoodsmen of that day had not possessed 
the admirable inquisition of German officials, the 
event of his birth had probably never been duly 
recorded, and he was sincerely grieved that eminent 
German Judges and juris-consults would meet with 
difficulties, should they ever have to establish the 
fact that he, John Grover, really had been born at a 
certain time. He claimed, moreover, to be an 
emphatically self-made man,- having acquired what- 
ever little knowledge he might possess by his own 
unaided efforts, and having, in the course of time, 
by very hard work and very lucky speculations, 
amassed a fortune which, he ventured to say, might 
be called quite considerable. In vain did Judge 
and lawyer exert their ingenuity ; the most cun- 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


145 


ning and crafty questions remained unanswered. 
Wrapped up in his impenetrable silence, the Ameri- 
can persevered in his policy of absolute denial. In 
vain he was confronted with the conductor of the 
car on which he had met with the accident ; the 
watchman, also, failed to recognize him ; even his 
voice and peculiar accent had passed entirely from 
his memory. 

The Judge, thus foiled on all sides, began to be 
anxious to know what he should do with his unap- 
proachable prisoner. He felt especially perplexed 
after the examination of the conductor, who con- 
firmed Grover’s statement almost in every detail. 
The American had really, during that fatal night, 
come on board the last car of the tramway leading 
to Seaton, and the accident had really happened. 
The conductor remembered the occurrence so well, 
because he had taken pains to explain to his late 
passenger — evidently a foreigner and unacquainted 
with the city — that he would have to be careful in 
getting out on the right side, as the Seaton line 
branched off on that side, while the other branch on 
the left, led ill the end back to town. The only 
point of importance was, that the conductor had no 
idea of the serious character of the accident ; he had 
seen the fallen man rise immediately and walk off 
quietly, and thus received the impression that no 
harm had been done. When asked at what time 
this had happened, he stated that it was his last turn 
at night, and consequently must have been one 
o’clock or shortly before. 


146 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


The night watchman was even less accurate in 
his statement. He obstinately denied, of course, 
having been stupid with sleep, and the whole gen- 
eral appearance of the foreigner, who had been 
requested to put on the fur cloak he had worn that 
night, seemed to him to be the same as that of the 
nocturnal caller, but he declined to swear that John 
Grover and the stranger who had startled him by 
his sudden approach, were one and the same man. 

The Judge did not for a moment doubt John 
Grover’s guilt, and it was in compliance with his 
urgent demand that the accused was not allowed to 
furnish bail. John Grover had offered almost any 
amount that might be asked, and had urgently 
prayed not to be kept so long in close confinement. 
And yet the same judge, discussing the case con- 
fidentially with Molitor, confessed that he would not 
be greatly surprised if he should finally see himself 
compelled to let the man go free from want of 
sufficient evidence. 

The Commissary of Police had, in the meantime, 
worked hard in another direction, and his labors had 
been productive of most surprising results. The 
instinctive suspicion which he had formed against 
Richard Dunsing, and which the man’s ignoble con- 
duct, as far as Erna was concerned, had greatly 
increased, had set him to find out if the manufac- 
turer might not after all have received a visit from 
his future father-in-law on the very uight on which 
the banker had been murdered. 

Dunsing, who had been repeatedly requested 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


147 


either to furnish information to the Court, or to 
explain his own acts in connection with the sad 
occurrence, had invariably denied that such a visit 
had taken place. Molitor, however, had quietly 
investigated the matter most thoroughly, and thus 
secured abundant evidence — mainly from factory 
hands — that Dunsing had, during that night, re- 
ceived a visitor and spent some time with him in 
his private rooms. This proved that Dunsing had 
not spoken the whole truth when he declared he 
had been alone in his house during that evening. 
It was evidently his design to keep this visit from 
becoming generally known ; but why ? On the other 
hand, none of the factory hands had recognized the 
visitor, although all agreed that he had looked very 
much like the banker. The janitor of the factory, 
who had closed the great iron gates immediately 
after the stranger had left, was positive that the 
latter was not the murdered man. 

Smooth and slippery like an eel, the clever young 
man escaped every dangerous question. Even the 
terribly impassioned words of the banker, almost 
cursing his intended son-in-law, and the still stronger 
evidence of the slip of paper, with what was prob- 
ably intended to be an advertisement in one of the 
leading papers, could not induce him to commit 
himself in the slightest. He declared that he had 
never heard a word of any intention on the part of 
the banker to break off the engagement, and admit- 
ting that he blundered in letting the notes go out 
of his hands, instead of merely using them as col- 


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laterals, he pleaded that he had expected long before 
they were due to be in possession of Erna’s large 
dower and to recall the notes. Of course he admit- 
ted that the banker might have had reason to be 
angry with him, but he was so sure the kind and 
affectionate father had never for once really thought 
of grieving his child by such a fearful step. Mrs. 
Wigan, he added, had never been very kind to him, 
and might very well have heard things which were 
not really spoken. 

The Judge was more or less affected by the very 
clever and plausible pleading of the young manu- 
facturer, but Molitor only thought worse of his 
cunning, and was convinced in his heart that some 
part of the guilt — he knew not how much or how 
little — fell to Dunsing’s share. 

A peculiarly embarrassing feature in the whole 
most complicated case, was the necessity created 
by Molitor’s official duties to investigate the re- 
lations that had existed between the banker and 
his wife. Molitor had gradually been admitted 
as a friend by the proud lady, and most highly he 
valued the privilege. All the more painful were to 
him the results of his inquiries. For it turned out, 
to the great surprise of almost all the friends of the 
family, that Mr. Wigan had for long years ceased to 
be that model of a faithful and devoted husband 
which he was generally believed to be. It was as 
much as sixteen years ago that the first serious 
rupture had taken place ; the banker had soon after 
sold the beautiful castle on the banks of the Elbe, in 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


149 


which the tragedy was reported to have taken place. 
Former servants testified that on a certain evening 
the banker had had a fearful scene with his wife ; 
the latter had tried to flee with her three-year-old 
child in her arms, but the husband had used force, 
and for three days and nights had kept her under 
lock and key, refusing her all food. 

From that day, Mrs. Wigan had walked quietly 
through life by the side of her husband, but she had 
never again voluntarily addressed a word to him ; 
cold and impassive she appeared at his side. Per- 
sonally, she adopted the greatest simplicity in cos- 
tume and in manners ; only when the dignity and 
the honor of the great banking-house was at stake, 
she stooped to appear the lady of the world. More- 
over, she had in the course of years, succeeded in 
gathering around her, and in assembling on fixed 
days under her roof, a circle of gifted and interest- 
ing men, political and financial celebrities, and the 
parties she gave to these friends of hers had gradu- 
ally become a prominent feature in the social life of 
the city. Self-denying, and sacrificing all for the 
welfare of her daughter, she had kept a warm, feel- 
ing heart for the poor and the needy. A thousand 
small details, which the investigation of the Commis- 
sary brought to light, bore witness to the pure, 
haughty, but blameless character of the lady, who 
spent far more upon her charities than herself. 
Even the daily account-book had been sequestered 
by the judicial authorities, and the Government-Re- 
visers were filled with admiration for a lady, who. 


150 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


in her social position, had so much money and 
especially so much time for the poor and the needy, 
while her personal expenses amounted to a mere 
trifle. 

The pursuit of the cashier of the former banking- 
house remained long fruitless. Slummer seemed to 
have vanished. Even the large reward offered for 
his capture produced no result. This was regretted 
all the more, as every day had more clearly estab- 
lished the guilt of the blackguard. It was soon 
ascertained that he — whether acting independently 
or in agreement with his principal — had lost more 
than two million marks in the course of a few 
months in wildest speculations on ’Change, and 
had, no doubt, covered his losses by the deposits in 
the bank, which he alone controlled. 

At last, at the moment when the Commissary of 
Police had abandoned all hope of capturing the 
criminal, there came from Baden-Baden the news 
that the fugitive had been overtaken. After keep- 
ing very quiet for several months, and amusing him- 
self while concealed in the vast crowd ever surg- 
ing up and down in such a city, he had yielded to 
the innate, irrepressible lust of the eye and the lust 
of the flesh, and gone South, hoping, no doubt, that 
the host of winter guests in Baden would enable 
him to remain unnoticed. 

A few days after Mrs. Wigan and her daughter 
Erna had moved into their new, modest home, — two 
small but cheerful, sunlit rooms, — the cashier was 
brought to prison and confined in a cell. The 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


151 


Judge now developed an almost feverish zeal; he at 
once sent for Mr. Molitor, and in his presence began 
to examine Skimmer for several hours. The fugi- 
tive stood at bay. He soon found the evidence 
against him too strong to make it worth his while 
to attempt to refute it, but boldly and even defiant- 
ly he threw all the blame upon the murdered 
banker, declaring that he had only obe3^ed his em- 
ployer’s express orders in speculating on ’Change. 
He also maintained not to have had the slightest 
suspicion that their enormous losses were covered 
by the dishonest use of money entrusted to the 
bank. All these subterfuges, however, availed him 
nothing; he had had, alone, control over all sums 
paid in as deposits, and the clerks that had been 
examined, had with one accord stated that Skimmer 
was not the man to become a mere tool in Mr. 
Wigan’s hands. 

The impudent, vulgar manner of the ex-cashier 
produced naturally a most unfavorable impression 
upon both the Judge and the Commissary. But 
even more 'painful was the effect of his offer to 
become useful to the authorities, if they would 
accept his revelations. When he was asked what 
he had to reveal, he added that he knew more 
about the murder of Banker Wigan than they, and 
might be able to disclose the real culprit, if the 
court would engage to let him go free. As a matter 
of course, such a bargain was out of question. 

Nevertheless, his words had made a deep impres- 
sion upon Molitor, who could not free himself of the 


152 


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thought that Slummer himself might have had a 
share in the tragic end of the banker. He thought 
this all the more probable as the cashier must have 
been in daily dread lest his employer should, any 
morning, discover the enormous robberies of which 
he had gradually become guilty. He had, no doubt, 
like all such unfortunate men, begun on a small scale 
only, and then ventured on, more and more boldly, 
impelled by the absurd hope that, by a larger ven- 
ture, he might cover all the previous losses. What 
more natural than that, unable to bear the constant, 
daily increasing fear, he should at last have deter- 
mined by one bold blow, to free himself of all appre- 
hension for the future ? 

It was, of course, a formidable suspicion, cherished 
by the Commissary of Police, although as yet unsup- 
ported by any evidence at all, and every argument 
that spoke against John Grover was, by so much, in 
favor of Slummer. The more Molitor reflected on 
Grover’s presumed guilt, the less he found his mind 
disposed to believe in it. It was evident that some 
profound mystery surrounded the relations be- 
tween John Grover and the banker ; it was proven, 
also, that the two men had met on that fatal even- 
ing in the banker’s villa and had left it together ; but, 
supposing the tracks to be correctly identified, noth- 
ing was proven as yet, except the mere fact of their 
being together at that place. The defective sole, 
well provided with heavy nails, was the one piece of 
evidence that constantly occupied the oflicer’s mind. 
He tried to compare, without being seen, the sole of 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


153 


Slummer’s boots with the drawing of the track which 
he possessed. Slummer had a large, ill-shapen foot, 
and the two tracks had nothing in common. The 
question arose, however : Could the man not have 
worn other shoes or boots on that evening — possi- 
bly for the very purpose of thus avoiding suspicion ? 

Molitor was indefatigable in his researches, and 
even went to Slummer’s former lodgings; but all he 
there ascertained was, that the cashier at one time 
had possessed a pair of worn-out shoes, that were 
unusually heavy and well protected with nails. For 
the present the Commissary kept these meagre 
results to himself, for he felt that he did not yet see 
quite clear enough himself, to convince others, 
and among them so clear-sighted a man as Judge 
Feilen was. He determined, however, to keep a 
watchful eye on Slummer, and as the control over 
the prison was part of his duty, this was an easy 
task. The very next day after Slummer’s first 
important examination, Molitor appeared there and 
ordered the prisoner Tibbeck to be brought before 
him. 

The journeyman-joiner was a man of about forty, 
whose appearance was such as to awake confidence, 
and whose face, in a frame of a full, reddish-brown 
beard, would have been handsome, if he had been 
able to look .steadily and boldly in any man’s face. 
His eyes, however, were unsteadily wandering all 
the while from one place to another, and made the 
man look insincere and untrustworthy. 

“ Look, Tibbeck,” began the Commissary, “ here 


154 


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is a chance for you to do a handsonse thing and to 
earn a little money at the same time! Of course, 
you have heard of Banker Wigan’s sad fate ?” 

The man slowly nodded his head. It looked as if 
he most carefully avoided meeting the officer’s eye, 
but the latter, who knew his peculiarity, paid little 
heed. 

“ I have not thought much about that,” he re- 
plied, in a hoarse, low voice. “ 1 onl}- read some- 
thing about it, once, in the newspapers — a reward 
of a thousand marks was offered.” 

“ Exactly so 1” affirmed Molitor, affectionately 
resting his hand on the shoulder of his old acquaint- 
ance. “ They think that immense sums have been 
spirited away, and this has led the creditors of the 
bankrupt firmTo offer so large a reward — well, what 
are you trembling for, that way ? Why, man I what 
is the matter with you of a sudden?” and he took 
his hand from the prisoner’s shoulder. 

“Oh, nothing! nothing! lam not trembling. 1 
do not know what it was, but a shudder came all at 
once over me — I could not help it — I was thinking 
how some people spend their money — and people 
like ourselves — ” 

“ Ah ! what have I to do with your misanthropic 
views ?” cried Molitor laughing. “You had better 
listen to me and hear how you may become a rich 
man. You must know, Tibbeck, I suspect that man 
Skimmer — who has been captured at last, after 
giving our detectives a nice run over the whole 
Empire — of being still in possession of large amounts 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


155 


which he won hy his speculations. Now, 1 want to 
make you an offer. I want you to be put in the 
same cell with this former cashier and — ” 

; “ Alas ! 1 am no good as a spy, Mr. Molitor ; really 

! not !” broke in the journeyman, eagerly. “ I may 
be a cursed bad fellow, but a spy ! No, I am not 
so bad as that !” 

“ I should like to know what there is bad in 
unmasking a blackguard of the deepest dye?” 
Molitor replied with some severity in his voice. 
“ On the contrary, you can do a good work, and you 
i ought to count it an honor to be trusted in this 
way. I do not generall}^ treat my prisoners with 
such confidence.” 

“ Well, you need not be so angry at once ; I only 
meant to say — ” 

“ Pshaw ! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, 

I sir ! Did you never hear anybody speak of the 
: banker’s poor widow and his orphan daughter? 
Those two ladies are suffering sorely ; they have to 
work hard to earn their daily bread, and they might 
be greatly relieved if we could find out where those 
large amounts of money are now concealed. You 
: will be interested, by the way, to hear that those 
two ladies are now lodgers in your house.” 

Tibbeck made no reply but merely stared at the 
Commissary as if he had told him a piece of incred- 
ible news. 

“ Yes, yes !” said the Commissary, nodding at the 
I man, “ I mean well with you ! I have gotten your 
: wife two highly respectable ladies as lodgers. They 


156 


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moved in yesterday, and to-night I shall call upon 
them at your house and see how they like it.” But 
he suddenly broke off here, and asked him : “ But 

what is the matter with you, my man ?” 

Tibbeck’s whole appearance had changed most 
wonderfully ; his features looked distorted and his 
eyes were rolling more unsteadily than ever in their 
orbits. “ What, the lady — Mrs. Wigan herself!” he 
at last uttered, evidently with a great effort. “ She j 
is staying at my house? She, Mrs. Wigan, did you | 
say? She is staying at my house? She, and her | 
daughter too?” | 

“ Well, what is there in that to make you stare at | 
me as if you were seeing ghosts? You ought to be j 
glad that I could get such help for your wife.” 

“No, no! That will never do!” stammered | 
Tibbeck, almost frenzied. 

“ But why not,” asked the Commissary, drawing | 
back a step and looking surprised. “ What on earth | 
frightens you so, man ? Why not Mrs. Wigan and I 
her daughter ?” | 

Now the prisoner seemed to recover himself. j 

“ Oh ! It is nothing ! Shere nonsense !” he said | 
with his feeble laughter. “ But, just fancy — who 
would have thought it possible ! Mrs. Wigan, in my 
house ! She!” And then he looked again, timidly 
and evidently terrified, at Molitor. “ And you say 
they are badly off, the two ladies ? What is the 
matter with them ?” 

“ Badly off, indeed !” said the Commissary, misin- 
terpreting his question. “ But as to your rent — you 


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157 


need not fear. The ladies are so situated that they 
can make their living in a very respectable manner.” 

“Ah! That is not the question!” replied the 
prisoner, almost contemptuously. And then he con- 
tinued in a much improved manner : “ You are right. 
Those rascals deserve to have their rascality 
revealed. Put me in the man’s cell — I’ll find him 
out quickly enough ! And as to the reward of which 
you are talking — of course it would be welcome, for 
there is my poor wife, slaving all day long, and my 
little Lina, who wants to get married in the Autumn.” 

“ Well then, that is settled,” said the Commis- 
sary. “ I’ll give the necessary orders at once. You 
are relieved of your present duties, and will remain 
in that man Slummer’s cell. In a fortnight your 
time is up, and by that time I dare say you will have* 
found out a great many things. 


CHAPTER X. 

On the same evening on which he had this inter- 
view with the journeyman, Molitor went with hur- 
ried steps down the long, uniform streets of the 
city, to pay Mrs. Wigan and her young daughter his 
first visit in their new home. Mrs. Tibbeck, a tidy, 
nicely dressed little woman, with a face beaming 
with kindness and goodness of heart, received him 
at the door, and showed him the way to the ladies’ 
room. He found both seated on a sofa, a round table 


158 


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with a suspension lamp before them, and both en- 
gaged in some kind of pretty handiwork. They rose 
as he entered, and the widow most heartily wel- 
comed the young official, while Erna was standing 
aside, rather timidly. 

“ I hope I do not intrude,” asked the Commissary, 
after he had taken a seat and cast a comprehensive 
glance around at the modestly but comfortably fur- 
nished room. 

“ Not in the least, for a good friend is always wel- 
come,” answered the mother; “ we were just speak- 
ing of the past.” 

“You ought not to do that, dear Mrs. Wigan,” 
said the 3"Oung man, modestly. “ It is better to 
banish the dismal shadows of the past, and to look 
forward hopefully into the future.” 

“ What we recalled were not exactly unpleasant 
memories,” continued the widow, after a moment’s 
hesitating reflection. “ I was telling my daughter 
of my youthful days. My present modest surround- 
ings had suddenly carried me back, for some twenty 
years ago I found myself in a like room ; although, 
of course, at that time I was young, and looked joy- 
ously at life, while now I have to fight the battle 
of life in earnest.” 

She passed her hand over her brow, and sank 
deeper back into the soft arm-chair, in which Moli- 
tor had found her so often in better days — one of 
the few relics saved from the wreck. 

“ If I did not have my dear, sweet Erna, and 
enjoyed her companionship and her love as she little 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


159 


imagines, 1 should be ready to tear the leaves con- 
taining the history of the last twenty years, and of 
my married life, willingly from the book of my life, 
as if they had never been. For, strange as it seems, 
the same cares, the same fear and anxiety which I 
had then, oppress me now again.” 

“Yes,” she added, reading in her visitor’s face 
astonishment and expectation, “yes, that makes you 
wonder, I see. But I may confess to you that I 
have not always enjoyed great wealth — are you not 
by this time as near to us as if you were a member 
of our family?” 

“Your confidence, Mrs. Wigan, makes me very, 
very happy,” said the visitor, evidently much pleased. 

“ And why should I not give you my whole con- 
fidence,” she continued after a short pause ; “ do you 
think 1 have not noticed how you and my own 
daughter have of late many a time wondered what 
might be going on in my mind ? Perhaps you 
thought I was harsh and even unjust to my husband, 
when I spoke rather severely of him who has been 
taken from us so suddenly and so tragically. Your 
unflagging and energetic interest in our well-being 
has won you a right to know who they are for whom 
you have so loyally done so much, and as I happen 
to be in the humor, and memories arise before my 
mind's eye that had better be banished forever by 
an open confession, I will tell you all. I shall, how- 
ever, speak only of persons who have departed this 
life, of human hearts as withered and dead as my 
own happiness — forever ! 


160 


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“ I, also, was once a happy girl, free from care, and 



most faithftilly performed his duties, and yet only 
earned enough to support his family decently. 
Brothers and sisters of mine are scattered about in 
the world ; not one of them has been as fortunate as 
I was during the long years of my married life. My 
father died, and my poor mother, with nothing to 
support her but a small pension, saw herself com- 
pelled to leave the capital and to rent a cottage in 
Beaufort, a small town not far from here, where 
beautiful forests and good hotels attracted a num- 
ber of summer-boarders. Let me be brief ! My 
friends discovered a talent for painting in me, and I 
was delighted to be able to contribute a trifle to our 
household expenses, and thus to secure some relief 
to my poor, careworn mother. The sale of my 
work led to the house of your future father, dear 
Erna,’' she added, turning to her daughter, who was 
hanging on her mother’s words with intense, breath- 
less interest. “ But he was not the first to make a 
deep impression on my heart. 

“ Your father had an elder brother, two years 
older than he was. Johannes — this was his name — 
was a highly-gifted, brilliant man, with an almost 
fiery enthusiasm for all that was noble and sublime, 
an enemy to vice in any shape, and I, young and 
inexperienced, lost my heart to him as soon as I 
knew him. I cannot weary you with all the fearful 
struggles 1 had in my bosom, for however little 1 
knew of the world, this much I saw, that a union 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


161 


between us was out of the question. Imagine then, 
my horror, when I discovered soon that Johannes 
also had conceived a liking for me. The world said 
at that time that 1 was pretty.” 

“No, mamma, no! You are pretty still! You 
are the fairest woman 1 have ever known,” cried 
i, Erna, and jumping up from her chair, she embraced 
I her mother, showing for the first time once more a 
1 sunlit smile on her lovely though pale features. 

I “You little flatterer!” said the mother, almost 
I reproachfully. “ What will Mr. Molitor think of 
i you ?” 

' The poor young girl blushed all over and sat down 
! again in the shadow of the lamp, but could not help 
laughing aloud as she saw the young officiars 
encouraging glances. 

“ Johannes’ parents owned a large landed estate, 
and his father was, moreover, president of the bank 
which my husband afterwards managed. Theo- 
I dore, your father, dear Erna, was at that time 
i expected back from England, where the old people 
I had a branch-bank under his direction. But all my 
! hesitancy, all my reluctance vanished in a moment, 
i when Johannes confessed to me hislove. He spoke 
so simply and truthfully, his words charmed me 
like bewitching music ; and even now, after all my 
' bitter experience of life, and all my grievous suffer- 
‘ ings, I can hear his voice and look into his dark, 
love-tuned eyes, however long they may now be 
: closed to sleep for all eternity.” She paused here 
several seconds. But then, forcibly recovering 


162 


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herself, she continued : “ We became secretl} 

engaged, for Johannes succeeded in putting aside 
all my objections and displayed before my mind’s 
eye such an enchanting picture, such an ever sunny 
May-day of life, that I could not resist. But it was 
not to be so. There came a day, a truly fearful 
day, wlicn I learned that the wealth of my future 
father-in-law was by no means as solid and as safe as 
it had been represented. The old man had engaged 
in speculations which had turned out disastrous. 
And just at this time the father of the young lady 
whom the family council had long since destined 
for Johannes, became impatient and urged a speedy 
decision. My secret lover could not dare, in this 
crisis, to oppose the will of his parents openly, but 
he also did not yield altogether — very cunningly he 
managed to postpone the catastrophe from day to 
day. But when we met in secret and were alone 
fear and trembling came over us, and we felt that 
the beginning of the end was nigh at hand. 

“And it came as a thief in the night. We had 
once more met secretly, and Johannes was lament- 
ing over our misfortunes and almost 3delded to 
despair. His parents had insisted upon a final 
decision, and the father of his intended bride had 
used intolerable language. A terrible scene had 
taken place. Johannes had remained faithful to me, 
but confessed that he saw no hope for our union. 
I was hanging, in tears, on his neck — my heart told 
me it was the last time that we thus stood, arm in 
arm, in pure, unselfish love, never to meet again. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


163 


“All of a sudden our silent sorrow was rudely 
broken in upon by the loud, scolding voice of a 
man. Amazed and terrified, 1 turned my head, and 
there stood a rough, uncouth looking man, with 
fiery wrath in his eyes. One word from Johannes’ 
lips explained all : the intruder was the father of the 
girl who was to become Johannes’ wife. But there 
was still another man present — and he a traitor!’’ 

The widow suddenly broke off here ; she sprang 
up, concealing her face behind her hands; the 
recollection overcame her ; the excitement was too 
much for her — she turned pale and red by turns 
and became for a moment unconscious. Erna, in her 
terror, seized her hand, and cried : 

“ Dear, dear mamma! what is it? you must not 
be so excited.’’ 

Molitor, also, painfully affected by the incident, 
and all of a sudden reading the myster}^ of the 
unhappy, lacerated heart of the widow quite clearl}^ 
joined his prayers to those of the young girl. 

“Oh, it, is nothing, nothing!” at last said Mrs. 
Wigan. *“ The memory of the past overcame me for 
an instant. 1 think I see him even now before me, 
that vile traitor, that second Cain — but, no !” she said, 
suddenly breaking off and looking with tenderest 
pity at the imploring eyes of her child — “ no ! you 
shall not be deprived of your childlike faith in true 
love!” she murmured with trembling lips. 

The Commissary looked at her, deeply moved. 

“ And, of course, you knew this — this other man ?” 
he said, after the widow liad resumed her seat. 


164 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


An imploring glance from the beautiful eyes 
swept by him to rest upon the young girl, and at 
the same time she laid her forefinger on her lips. 

Molitor understood what he had suspected was 
certainty. How deeply he pitied the poor woman ! 
How grievously he had misjudged her ! 

“ No, I could not recognize that man,” the mother 
continued, forcing herself to be quiet. “ He with- 
drew into the shade and the evening was a dark 
and cloudy Fall evening. But I felt that he was a 
traitor, and that it was he who had urged on that 
raging fiend to break in upon our meeting. Oh ! 
Great God ! How much might I have been spared, 
how different my whole life might have become, if 
1 had then been able to pierce the darkness and to 
read that man’s true character ! But hush ! He is 
standing now before God’s judgment seat, and He 
will have mercy on him ! And, besides, 1 have you, 
my dear, dear child !” she quickly added, seizing 
the hands of the young girl, who closely clung to 
her mother. 

“ The scene that followed was terrific,” Mrs. Wi<r- 
an continued, shuddering still. “ In a few minutes 
the whole life of two human beings was planned 
and prepared. In a fearful rage the old man seized 
his son by the breast, and I saw the fire blaze up in 
the eyes of my beloved — a fire as fierce and as fatal 
as that of the baneful lightning when it suddenly 
flashes forth from dark, black clouds, carrying ruin 
and devastation everywhere. I cannot, even to-day, 
tell what really happened. I fancied I saw the 


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165 


sheen of a dagger gleam in the darkness — then a 
short, deadly rattle in the throat — a half-suppressed 
cry of anguish. Then did I see two men writhing 
on the ground. I fled, barely conscious that the 
man who had stood hiding in the darkest corner, 
threw himself upon the two adversaries. I fled and 
left all my love and all my hope and all my hap- 
piness behind me, never — never — to see it again.” 

“Great God! my dear Mrs. Wigan, what you 
must have suffered !” exclaimed Molitor, deeply 
touched and seizing her hands. “ I presume it came 
to blows — did your Johannes allow himself to be 
tempted by the Evil One, did he ?” 

Mrs. Wigan passed her hand over her brow, as 
if to drive away dark, dismal dreams and to return 
to reality ; then she said : 

“Yes, the worst had happened,” she murmured 
weakly, unable to lend her voice the usual firmness. 
“ Johannes, who was naturally rash and impulsive, 
had lost his self-control when the old man inflicted 
a heavy blow right on his face. Unconscious of what 
he was doing, he drew a large clasp-knife, which he 
unfortunately always carried about him. In an 
instant his hand was raised — and the next moment 
it was buried in the man’s breast. At least this 
was what I was told at a later time. Later, for on 
my return to my mother’s house, pale unto death 
and frightened beyond all power of recovery, I was 
already delirious, and weeks, months passed before 
our excellent doctor rescued me from the grasp of 


166 


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the disease and enabled me once more to behold the 
bright light of day. 

“ But then new horrors were lying in wait for me. 
iMy late husband had first of all discovered the 
murder and taken care to let his brother escape 
before the terrible deed became known ; for a few 
minutes after the stab had been inflicted, the poor 
man had succumbed. Johannes fled, amply pro- 
vided with pecuniary means by his brother ; but he, 
also, only fled to meet death. On the journey to 
Hamburg a fearful railway disaster overtook him ; 
more than a hundred human beings, and he one of 
them, perished in the disaster. His remains, mere 
fragments of the terribly mutilated body, would 
never have been recognized, if, as by a miracle, his 
papers had not been preserved. He was buried 
secretly.” 

Here the poor lady’s voice gave out; sobs alone 
broke from the lips of the woman who was gener- 
ally so courageous. Once more Erna closely hung 
upon the bosom of her mother. It was a toucliing 
sight to witness the efforts of the loving daughter to 
soothe her poor, disconsolate mother’s grief, as she 
imploringly looked up to her with glances of warm- 
est affection. 

“It was certainly a cruel fate, my dear Mrs. 
Wigan, to be thus tried ; but pray, think, on the 
other hand, how fortunate it was that Heaven itself 
interfered and removed the unfortunate friend of 
your younger days.” 

, “Yes, it was fortunate,” she replied composedly, 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


167 


but a weird light shone in her eyes, “ poor Johanne’s 
heart was so trustful, so overflowing with love, 
that he never even conceived the wickedness of 
men. I myself only learned, many years later — alas! 
it was a fearful day, never to be forgotten ! — how 
thoroughly corrupt the heart of Man can be. I for- 
got to tell you that a large reward was offered for 
the capture of Johannes. As I told you, I was con- 
fined for many months to my bed — but for that, 1 
should have justified him in the eyes of the world 
and protected him against this fearful charge of 
being a murderer. My Johannes, my noble, great- 
hearted Johannes, a murderer She groaned pain- 
fully, and hid her face in her hands. “ But appear- 
ances were against him ; a devil had cunningly 
concocted the whole scheme. Assuming a mask of 
love and devotion, he had managed to deceive the 
poor victim of his malice ; he had conjured up 
again an early difficulty that had arisen between 
Johannes and the murdered man.’" 

Erna looked up, terrified. 

“ Great God ! Of whom are you speaking, 
mother?” she cried. “ Who is that uncanny, terrible 
man, who intruded thus upon your love and de- 
stroyed your life’s happiness ?” 

But the poor, suffering woman shuddered and 
with anxious affection she pressed Erna’s head to 
her bosom, as if she wished to prevent her from 
looking into her eyes. 

“ Do not ask me, child !” she answered. “ All is 
over now, and I ought not to conjure up the dead 


168 


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who are resting in their graves. But, as I said, 
appearances were against Johannes ; no one was 
there to defend him, and the courts decided accord- 
ingly. A few irate words that had been overheard 
bj" servants, and some violent utterances against 
the deceased, strengthened the suspicion that the 
deed was not the result of self-defense, but of long- 
cherished hatred. As a murderer Jie was pursued, 
and this curse, to have died a murderer in his sins, 
still clings to his name at this day, and disgraces 
his grave, that is so dear to me. Not even a simple 
stone they would allow me to place over his 
remains ! Oh ! men are cruel ! They have driven 
from this earth the memory of one of the bravest 
and noblest of men ! 

“ My life, for a time, went on quietly. Hope and 
Love were dead in me. The world praised my 
beauty. I would not be fair, since he was not there 
to enjoy my beauty who alone had called my heart 
his own, who even now, after all these tempestuous 
days, possesses my heart in unchanging affection. 
My mother grew weaker. I had to do double work 
to support us both. At last a day came when she lay 
down ‘ to rest a little ’ — in reality, never to rise 
again. Just then, my dear Erna, your father came 
and tried to win my heart ; he confessed that he had 
loved me long since, but had waited for the death 
of his parents to be independent when offering me 
his hand and his fortune. I told him frankly that 1 
could not give him the love he expected, but that I 
esteemed him highly ever since 1 had seen him 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


169 


stand by his brother in that unfortunate hour. As 
I hesitated to become his, because such a step looked 
to me like a breach of faith due to his brother, he 
went to my mother, and she, in her last moments, 
besought me to consent, and when she had joined 
our hands and uttered a short prayer, she closed her 
eyes and her soul returned to its Maker. 

“ Thus it was not love,” continued Mrs. Wigan, 
after a long, deep silence, which neither of the 
young people dared break, “ that bound me to my 
husband. I must confess it — and I hope I do not 
wrong the departed — I had no genuine, sacred love 
to give him, and he was not the man to awake it in 
his own heart, for he was a man of this world only 
and his business was his god. But the farther we 
started apart in the course of years, the fewer the 
points became that were common to both of us, the 
more I saw that his honor was blameless. Never, 
although he no doubt often and often lost sight of 
the line that separates strictly honest business from 
venturesome speculation — never did he enrich him- 
self illegally with a farthing, never did he touch 
other people’s property with covetous hands. The 
most scrupulous honesty governed all his actions.” 

“ Now I know,” here broke in Erna, clinging 
closely to her mother’s side, “ why you are so often 
sad and cast down, my dear Mamma ; you are think- 
ing of Johannes, the unhappy, ill-treated victim of 
circumstances !” 

Mrs. Wigan mournfully bowed her head and 
replied ; 


170 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“Yes, for in all the years of my opulent, out- 
wardly happy life, memory would not leave me. 
Every year I went to that retired little village, 
which the railway leaves unnoticed, and where the 
grave of my dear one attracts me irresistibly. At 
this sacred place 1 always found new_strength to 
bear all the ills of my unhappy married life, and on 
my return I had only to look into your eyes, my 
dear child, — they are his eyes — and I was happy 
once more, though but for a moment.” • 

“ Poor, poor Johannes !” said the young girl. 
“ But how came it that I never heard of him ? 
Nothing in our house ever reminded us of him ; 
there was not even a portrait there.” 

“ There exists but one single likeness of Johannes,” 
said the mother, “ and I, who have painted it myself, 
also carry it about my person, always looking upon 
it as a talisman.” 

With these words she drew from the upper part 
of her dress an old-fashioned locket, suspended on a 
slight gold chain. She opened it and showed the 
two young people the pastel portrait of a young 
man, who was looking boldly and confidently into 
the world. 

The Commissary had no sooner glanced at it than 
he cried out: 

“ Great Heavens ! what a likeness !” But then, 
when he saw the two ladies look at him surprised 
and wondering, he paused in confusion. “ Oh ! It is 
nothing,” he added ; “ but I think the two brothers 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


171 


must really have resembled each other much, when 
they were young." 

“ By no means," replied the widow, “ only a cer- 
tain family likeness; Johannes’ features were cut far 
more boldly and nobly. With his prominent Roman 
nose, his free brow and the frank, honest expression 
of his face, he was the ideal of a handsome, honest 
man." 

She paused and seemed absorbed in the contem- 
plation of the little portrait. 

“ Will you permit me one more look at it?" asked 
Molitor and, holding it in his hand, he bent over it 
and examined it long and searchingly. “ It is in- 
deed a valuable specimen of the great skill of gold- 
smiths in days gone by." 

I owe you now another confession," continued 
the widow, “ now that we are sitting here so cozily. 
Forming as it were but one family, I can speak of 
many things which before 1 could never mention. 
This locket, 1 told you, I almost hold sacred as a 
talisman, and therefore I was afraid it might be 
taken from me and desecrated at the time of the ter- 
rible calamity, if I had told you then that the watch 
which the deceased wore and this locket are re- 
markably alike. Of course the watch is somewhat 
larger and more massive, to hold and protect the 
works, but otherwise both are almost identical speci- 
mens of the goldsmith’s skill." 

“That is indeed most precious evidence," ex- 
claimed the Commissary, greatly rejoiced, “ for in 
spite of the most careful researches at all the dealers 


172 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


in such articles, pawnbrokers and others, we have 
not been able to detect the smallest trace of the 
watch.” 

“ The explanation is easy enough,” continued the 
lady; “ watch and locket are two heirlooms, which 
my husband’s family has kept together for several 
generations. Johannes had at that time the locket ; 
while my husband inherited the watch from his 
grandfather. In that sacred hour, when our hearts 
met never to part again upon earth, Johannes gave 
me the locket, as the most precious thing he owned, 
begging me ever to wear it upon me, by day and by 
night. ‘ As long as you do not part with this jewel,’ 
he said to me, ‘so long shall I know, and were I 
lying in my grave, that you are mine in truth and 
in spirit.’ I have worn it all my life since, and never 
shown it even to my own, sweet child ; but every 
evening I took it out and gazed at it, till it seemed 
to me as if the portrait was going to open its lips 
and to speak to me of bygone happy days. And 
surely 1 did not wrong my husband by this, for to 
love a dead man and to honor his memory — that 
cannot be wrong !” 

* “ My dear Mrs. Wigan,” said Molitor, “ 1 can not 
tell you how happy you make me by allowing me 
this insight into your inner life. You have had to 
pass through cruel trials and seen bitter days, but 
let us hope that soon the time of tribulation will be 
gone and peace and happiness will return.” 

“Alas! there is little prospect just now for 
such a change,” said the widow, shaking her head. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


173 


“ If God would grant me only the one consolation 
of seeing my dear, sweet child provided for life, 1 
m 3 ^self am resigned and hope for nothing any more, 
but Erna — ” 

The three people who found themselves suddenly 
drawn so near to each other, spent nearly the whole 
evening together in earnest conversation. But 
when the Commissary at last said Good-b^^e and 
stepped out into the dark street, the soft April 
wind had changed into a furious tempest, and a like 
change took place in his face. The gentle, encour- 
aging smile that he had shown the two ladies dis- 
appeared in an instant and black care dweltin every 
line. A new thought had sprung up in his mind 
which threatened to give to the investigation of 
John Grover’s life an entirely different turn, and 
with it, a new and absorbing interest. 


CHAPTER XT. 

Molitor had a sleepless night. It had required a 
great effort in the evening to conceal his surprise 
when Mrs. Wigan showed him the sacredly guarded 
portrait of her murdered husband’s brother. It rep- 
resented, of course, a young and handsome man in 
the springtime of life, but the features were so very 
marked and so peculiar that they impressed them- 
selves instantly and forever on his mind’s eyes. 


174 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


Exactly the same haughty Roman nose, the same 
masterly, determined eyes, the same colossal and 
marble-like brow, the same countenance, only cov- 
ered by the hand ol Time with lines and wrinkles, 
and the chin covered with a luxuriant reddish beard, 
he had watched hour after hour, when examining 
his prisoner, John Grover ! 

Over-excited by the unexpected discovery, and 
utterly bewildered by this entirely new complica- 
tion, he lay tossing and twisting on his weary couch. 
A thousand thouglits chased each other wildly in 
his blind, and a most painful uncertainty as to his 
precise duty under the circumstances harassed him 
almost intolerably. He felt, vaguQly but forcibly, 
the antagonism that would arise between his loving 
heart on one side and stern duty on the other. For 
he could no longer conceal it from himself: he 
loved Erna ! The sweet, winsome young girl had 
bewitched him almost at first sight, and those blue 
eyes, so full of deep inner life and heartfelt love, 
went with him, most welcome companions, wher- 
ever he was. Not a word he had said as yet of the 
wound in his heart and the hopes he ventured to 
cherish — he respected the injury done to Erna’s 
feelings by D unsing’s vile withdrawal, although he 
was convinced that she also, like her mother, had 
submitted to a plot concocted by wretched con- 
spirators, ready to sacrifice her own happiness to 
the wishes of loving, but misguided parents. It 
was the young man’s ambition to speak not yet, 
but first to act, and by his actions to prove himself 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


175 


worthy of the priceless pearl he wished to possess. 
It was a proud consciousness which he secretly 
cherished in his bosom, that the fate of these two 
poor ladies was entrusted to him. If he should suc- 
ceed in convicting the cashier, and in compelling 
him to surrender at least a part of the stolen money, 
there was hope that the widow might recover a 
modest portion of her husband’s wealth, for he 
never believed that more than one half of the whole 
amount stolen could have been lost by speculations 
on ’Change in the course of a few months. 

But in the midst of such bright hopes and happy 
anticipations the revelation of last night had all of 
a sudden displayed the “ rift in the lute.” The past 
unexpectedly rose in gigantic outlines to part the 
ladies and the Commissary. In vain did Molitor 
search his memory, in vain did he employ all the 
efficient means at his disposal in his official capacity 
— he had never heard of a crime committed by a 
member of the Wigan family, he could nowhere 
find a trace of such an occurrence in the annals of 
Justice. But now — if a crime had been committed, 
and if the pretended American, John Grovpr, was in 
reality the fugitive brother, Johannes Wigan, then it 
was certainly his solemn duty to tear the mask from 
the face of the man who had returned under a false 
name and a false flag, and to hand him over to Jus- 
tice. And then — was not in that case all hope lost 
ever to call Erna his own ? 

The Commissary saw no way out of this difficulty, 
and his mind took daily darker views of the situ- 


176 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


ation. John Grover must be Banker Wigan’s 
brother ! And if this was so, many a riddle was 
solved. Evidently the two brothers had kept up a 
correspondence, and in order to secure themselves 
against any danger of discovery, they had not only 
sent all their letters marked “ To be called for,” but 
had also notified each other, before sending a letter, 
by an advertisement in a certain paper agreed upon. 
This notice was, moreover, always given in cipher. 
The fact that John Grover was the banker’s elder 
brother, was evidently the secret that bound them 
to each other, and the motive for the return of the 
American, who had no longer been able to resist 
the longing for home. This explained the great 
precautions they took in their intercourse, the mys- 
terious “secret” interview in the Hotel Metropole, 
and the nocturnal meeting at Seaton. On the other 
hand, however, how was it possible that one brother 
should murder the other, especially since there was 
every evidence that they were most affectionately 
devoted to each other, as their correspondence also 
proved abundantly. 

At last, towards morning, the young man fell 
asleep, still seeing Erna’s image standing before 
him, looking like an angel, but sadly gazing at him. 
and when he tried to seize the hem of her garment, 
she vanished as if she had been of air. He felt as if 
all his strength had gone from him, and this paralyz- 
ing influence continued to oppress him even after he 
had fully roused himself to engage once more in 
official duties. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


177 


He displayed now a matchless energy, determined 
as he was to solve the mystery, not for his own sake 
only, but prompted by an ardent desire to assist the 
poor ladies. As yet he did not tell them what dis- 
covery he had made, for the widow would have 
been overwhelmed with pain and distress upon 
hearing that the man she had loved and so long 
faithfully mourned was alive, but as John Grover, 
held a prisoner and charged with murder! In the 
meantime he had all the old records of the Criminal 
Court brought to his office, and most diligently 
sought among the causes cd^bre for the fatal name. 
At last he found, in the year 1864, an advertisement 
offering a very large reward for the capture of 
Johannes Wigan, followed by a minute description 
of his person. Then, perhaps a year later, he came 
across another such offer of “ Reward ” for the cap- 
ture of the railway laborer by whose unpardonable 
negligence the train had been wrecked in which 
Johannes Wigan had been going to Hamburg, and 
amid the wreck of which he was buried. At least, 
this was presumed by the authorities who investi- 
gated the affair. A fearfully mutilated and partly 
destroyed body was found, and in some clothes that 
seemed to belong to him papers were found that 
belonged to one Johannes Wigan, with a passport 
for the United States. 

The next volumes contained no notice of the 
event or the men who had perished on that occa- 
sion. But, some years later, Molitor came across a 
renewed offer of Reward ” for the delivery to the 


178 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


authorities of the aforesaid Johannes Wigan. This 
was, however, the last mention of that name, and the 
authorities had evidently abandoned all hope of 
recovering the criminal. 

A few weeks more and prescription would have 
protected the fugitive from justice against all legal 
pursuit. Even if he had not been buried as one of 
the victims of that railway disaster, he was now at 
liberty to return to his native country, without the 
slightest fear of being held responsible for the 
crime of which he was suspected. Was this per- 
haps the secret which made John Grover so exces- 
sively cautious and reserved, so that he weighed 
every word before he uttered it carefully. 

“ Perhaps this was the reason why he so obstin- 
ately refused to answer any question as to his past.” 

After a short reflection the Commissary deter- 
mined to venture upon a bold step, to go to the 
prisoner in his cell and boldly to accuse him of 
being Johannes Wigan He found the American as 
sad and melancholy as usual. 

It was the best cell of which the keeper had the 
right to dispose; certain simple comforts even were 
not wanting. Thus the prisoner sat in a comfort- 
able arm-chair, facing the window with its iron bars, 
and watching the scenes in the court-yard below, 
where at that moment some prisoners were allowed 
to take exercise. He glanced at the door, and as 
he recognized the Commissary, he merely nodded 
lightly. Molitor was not discouraged, however, by 
this reception^ and walked straight up to the 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


179 


prisoner. “How are you, Mr. Johannes Wigan?” 
he suddenly asked in a pointed manner, watching 
at the same time the expression in the x\merican’s 
features most sharply. 

The prisoner turned round as if bitten by a snake. 
The lost drop of blood seemed to leave his face and 
his eyes wandered helplessly around in the cell, as 
if in search of protection from a terrific blow. Then 
he looked steadily at the man who was standing, 
towering over him, before his chair. 

This fearful consternation, however, lasted but a 
moment; then the usual contemptuous smile once 
more curled his lips, and he said, attentively look- 
ing at his adversary : “ I do not understand you. 

Commissary. Whom do you mean? Are you not 
mistaken about the name ?” 

“Why will you try to deceive me, Mr. Wigan? 
Your fright betrayed you at once !” answered 
Molitor in a subdued but very impressive tone. 

“And what has my fright to do with that name ? 
Perhaps because you thought it would startle me? 
Well, I am willing to confess — my thoughts were 
afar off, far from this inhospitable country, and 
when I so suddenl}^ neard the name of my so-called 
victim, Wigan, 1 only heard this name and was 
frightened involuntarily.” 

Molitor looked at him seriously and reproachfully 
as he said : “Spite of all that goes against you, I 
always thought 3^011 to be a man of honor, and such 
a man does not lie.” 

“ Sir !” cried the pseudo-American in a fur}^ but 


180 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


a calming motion of Molitor’s hand seemed at 
once to pacify him and he sank back again into his 
chair. 

“ Pray listen to me !” continued the Commissary. 
“ I think I see now clearly how matters stand ; but 
before I make my official report to my superiors, I 
should like to discuss them frankly with you. You 
have, I am told, in a fit of hot anger, in which you 
were delirious, killed another man with a knife. It 
may be that in the first great excitement you 
thought you would be condemned for murder, and, 
really, a suspicion must have existed to warrant the 
issue of the offer of reward for your capture in the 
year 1864. You had escaped, however, and as 
probably another man had obtained possession of 
your passport and other papers, before he perished 
in that great railway disaster, that man had been 
interred in your name. You fled to America, and 
there rose by your industry to become a million- 
aire ; but the longing after your old home left 3’ou 
no peace. 

“ You had kept up some intercourse with 3’our 
brother. He advised you not to come to Germany. 
I see this from the Hamburg letter, in which 3^011 do 
not share his apprehensions. You defied these fears, 
came over and had several secret interviews with 
3^our brother. Seeing now that we know all this, 
had 3^011 not better consent to make an open con- 
fession ? Had you not better say: ‘Yes, 1 am 
Johannes Wigan, and I submit to 3"our sentence.’ 
Who knows but the jury would be very lenient, or 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


181 


would acquit you altogether, as your crime is long 
since condoned by prescription, — that brother should 
murder brother, is hardly known ever to have 
occurred,” the Commissary concluded, looking very 
sharply and piercingly at his prisoner. 

But not a muscle in the American's face moved. 
He bore the searching glance of the officer calmly 
and firmly ; his features looked as if they were cast 
in steel. 

“ That is a very pretty story, my dear sir,” he re- 
plied- at last; only I do not see what I, John Grover, 
have to do with it. It is very humane in you to 
speak so kindly to me, and to give me such good 
advice, and I am very much obliged to you for your 
kindness. But I do not need it. This farce will 
soon be played out ; they will, they must set me 
free !” 

Molitor was disappointed ; he had hoped to make 
a very different impression. Now that the Ameri- 
can, like a skillful fencer, had warded off the bold 
attack, he felt a little discouraged. But this lasted 
only a few moments ; then his full self-control re- 
turned, and he instantly devised a new form of 
attack. 

“ I am sorry for that, Mr. Grover — since I must 
call you so as long as 3^011 repudiate the other 
name — ” he began once more, “ I had hoped my 
words would have induced you to confess the whole 
truth, at least for the sake of the poor widow and 
her orphaned daughter.” 

He at once noticed that these words of his were 


182 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


not without effect. There came flashes of sinister 
fire to the American’s eyes, and although still full 
of distrust, he yet went so far as to ask : 

“ What do you mean by that ? What have the 
two women to do with it?” and the Commissary 
felt as if the man’s voice was quite unsteady. 

“Well, the banker’s death has exposed them to 
sore trials,” answered Molitor, and at once deter- 
mined to tell all to his prisoner, who had so long 
been entirely cut off from all intercourse with the 
outer world. In a few, concise sentences, never tak- 
ing his eyes from the prisoner’s face, he told him all 
that had happened. He thought he noticed that 
the longer he spoke, the greater was the excitement 
of his adversary in this strange kind of a duel. 

“ You say she is poor and she suffers, she and her 
child?” cried the American at last, when Molitor 
had finished his report. 

“ So it is,” he answered, “ she lives by the industry 
of her hands. Weakly and sickly as she is, worn 
out by grief, it is feared she will not last long.” 

“Oh! Poor, poor Ada!” John Grover suddenly 
exclaimed, beating his forehead. 

The Commissary at once took advantage of these 
words. 

“ You are mentioning there a name which I have 
not before heard you use. I have purposely ab- 
stained from telling you Mrs. Wigan’s first name 
— how do you know it, and especially in its shortened 
form ? No doubt you used that name once your- 
self in this affectionate form?” 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


183 


But by this time the American had his whole 
armour on again. With hard, fierce obstinacy he 
met Molitor’s penetrating looks. 

“ Pshaw ! Nonsense ! You wanted to catch me ! 
I meet cunning with cunning! That name came up 
quite accidentally. I do not know this woman and 
never knew her. Once more, I tell you the family 
are strangers to me ! 1 am in Germany for the first 
time now, and what more can I tell you?” 

Molitor was bitterly disappointed. He had hoped 
great things from this new attack. 

“ Well, then,” he said, turning away, “ settle that 
with your conscience, Mr. John Grover. I meant 
well with you. Now I shall prove, against your 
will, that you are Johannes Wigan, reputed dead.” 

As he was leaving the room, he turned once more 
back in the door, and was startled at the great 
change in the face of the American, who thought 
himself unobserved. A whole world of grief and 
misery was expressed in his features. Of a sudden 
he rose, and approaching the door he whispered 
hoarsely : 

“ One word, Mr. Commissary !” 

Molitor’s heart beat high. Had he at last found 
access to the American ? 

“ I am a rich man, Mr. Molitor,” continued the 
American, hastily and without looking at the official, 
“1 do not wish to hear that the family of the man 
whom I am accused of having killed should suffer. 
Am I at liberty to dispose of my money ? I should 
like to send the two ladies a few thousand dollars.” 


184 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


The Commissary shook his head. 

“ The one kindness which under the circumstances 
you can show them is Truth, the whole truth, the 
only thing fit for your dignity as a man.” 

“And nothing else— I can do ?” said the American 
almost to himself, and a violent struggle evidentl)^ 
took place in his heart. He looked almost implor- 
ingly at the officer, and as the latter shook his head, 
denying the favor, he burst out : 

“ Well, then, take it upon your own conscience ! I 
will say no more. I am John Grover, and there is an 
end of it !” 

And there was. Molitor, disappointed and indig- 
nant at the conduct of the man whom he believed to 
be the lost Johannes Wigan, left the cell. He 
went into the public room and sent for the journey- 
man. 

“ Well,” he said hopefully, “ have you done what 
I expected? have you anything to tell me?” 

He started, however, at the man’s face. Until now 
it had not been unpleasant to him, because, in spite 
of the shy looks in his eyes, the man spoke with a 
certain air of openness and candor. But this had 
disappeared, and now the face looked downright 
repulsive. Suddenly he was amazed at himself; 
how could he ever have trusted this man, who now 
looked as if he bore Cain’s mark. 

“ I do not know. I do not like playing the spy. 
I wish you would not send me back to that man’s 
cell. Such a gentleman and I — we don’t suit each 
other,” was the man’s answer. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


185 


“ In prison all are alike ; all wear the same cap 
and the same clothes,” the Commissary told him 
angrily. “And you really refuse to do something 
to help those poor ladies ? Are you so heartless ?” 

Tibbeck drew up his shoulders and growled. He 
implied that he knew best himself what he had to 
do in such a case. Once more disappointed 
Molitor left the building, and his heart sank within 
him as he returned home, having utterly failed in 
his efforts to get at the truth. At last he resolved 
to go to see Judge Feilen, who might at least relieve 
him of part of the responsibility, if he chose. But 
here also, the poor young man met with disappoint- 
ment. The Judge refused to become an open ally ; 
he shrugged his shoulders and answered : 

“ Certainly, a mere resemblance with an old minia- 
ture cannot convict our American. We, must prove 
that he and the man for whom that reward was 
offered are one and the same person, and that will 
be hard, because the man was buried in 1864, and 
the authorities cannot well have been mistaken. But 
you might try ; I myself am tired of the case, I con- 
fess, and fear we shall not gain much credit in the 
matter.” 

A few evenings later the young man called on 
Mrs. Wigan. He found her suffering. For a time 
she had shown real heroism in meeting the blows of 
fate, but now her strength was exhausted. There 
came days when she could not leave her bed. Erna, 
however, looked bravely at the future and felt con- 
fident yet that she could support her mother and 


186 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


herself. With joy in her eyes, she told Molitor that 
she had at last succeeded in obtaining some orders 
for very fine and difficult embroidery. Poor Mrs. 
Wigan, lying on her sofa, covered with wraps and 
shawls, smiled sadly, and Molitor thought he saw 
how deeply she was concerned for the future of her 
child. How gladly he would have spoken and make 
known the passionate longing of his heart, which 
always grew stronger in Erna’s presence ! But he 
dared not. The time had not yet come ! Who 
could tell what sudden changes the next day might 
bring, especially now, when it might become his 
duty to expose the two dear ladies to most painful 
publicity. 

He was very sad when he took leave of the ladies 
on that evening. He had noticed an expression in 
the mother’s sad face which had seriously alarmed 
him, so that he did not rest till she had promised to 
send for a doctor. But she had done this with 
great reluctance and with a very strange look in her 
face. Erna accompanied the guest to the outer 
door, her bright, cheerful manner forming a strik- 
ing contrast with the melancholy sadness of her 
mother. But she thought only of cheering the 
young man, and her sweet Good-night ! as she was 
closing the house-door, lingered long on his ear, 
like hope-inspiring music. 



CHAPTER XII. 

Weeks had gone by and no change had yet taken 
place in the system adopted by the police to dis- 
cover the murderer. John Grover still denied^ and 
if he looked a trifle more oppressed, this was as likely 
the effect of long confinement as a reason for new 
suspicions. The joiner had paid the penalty of his 
misdeed and was free once more. The Commissary, 
who did not venture to call upon the two ladies, 
the older of whom was considered dangerously ill, 
still could not resist the temptation to come to the 
house on the plea that he must see how Tibbeck 
behaved after leaving the prison. He found mother 
and daughter as comfortable as the house and Mrs. 
Tibbeck’s kindness could make them ; the husband 
he did not see. He had at once found work in a 
large establishment, and left the house at six in the 
morning, returning only late at night. His master, 
however, while praising his work, complained of 
his irregular habits ; not unfrequently, he left in 
the afternoon and returned only after an absence of 
several hours. 

[187J 



188 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


Alas! no light came from any direction, and 
Molitor lost heart. He was nearly despairing when 
one of those insignificant accidents, which some- 
times become suddenly all-important, rekindled his 
hopes. He was about to leave his office, when one 
of the keepers stopped him, sajnng : 

“ I should like to mention to you that No. 29 
seems to have friends outside who can reach him. 
1 am not quite sure, but yesterday, as I was looking 
into his cell, through the opening in the door, I saw 
the prisoner pick up something that must have been 
thrown in through the window. You know the 
window of No. 29 looks upon the little alley, where 
nobody ever passes.” 

“ No. 29? Is that not the cell where the cashier, 
Slummer, is confined ?” 

“ Yes,” replied the man, and then continued : 
“ I ought to have gone in at once, but I was stupid 
enough to wait and see what it was the prisoner 
held in his hand. When I saw it was a bit of paper 
I dashed in, but I was not quick enough. No. 29 
instantly swallowed the paper.” 

“ When did that happen?” 

“ Yesterday afternoon, before dark.” 

“ And since then you have, of course, watched the 
prisoner very carefully.” 

“ Yes, sir, but in vain. The prisoner read a long 
time in the Bible; then he wrote a little, and of a 
sudden he threw something out of the window.” 

“ That is very suspicious,” said Molitor. “ Why 
did you not at once report to me ?” 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


189 


“ It only happened this morning, sir,” said the 
keeper. 

“ No doubt,” said the Commissary, after some 
reflection, “ this man Skimmer has some way of 
•communing with the outer world. He is a dan- 
gerous scamp and you must watch him closely. Did 
you look into the alley ?” 

“ Of course I went down as soon as I was free, 
but not a bit of paper, not a trace 'was there to be 
found. And yet nobody ever passes there, not 
even the children of the neighborhood. The street 
is perfectly deserted.” 

‘‘Well, watch the prisoner well. I will see to it 
that the alley also is watched.” 

By chance he met, as he crossed the court that 
separates the jail from the Court House, one of his 
men, in whom he placed great confidence. 

“ 1 am glad to meet you Schmidt,” he said to him. 
“ They tell me one of the prisoners gets letters from 
outside, in the narrow alley behind the North wing. 
I want you to watch there, keeping an eye on the 
third window from the right in the second story. 
That is Slummer, the cashier’s cell.” 

“ Ah ! I see !” replied the officer. 

“ I am very anxious to get hold of one of these 
letters. 1 shall remain at my office, not leaving it 
even to go to dinner, and hope you will report to 
me at once if you discover anything.” 

Molitor found upon reaching his office such a 
mass of work waiting for him, that he plunged in 
and kept at it till the early twilight of the May day 


190 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


Warned him to take care of his eyes. Just then 
there came a knock at the door, and to his surprise 
the detective entered, bringing a man whom he had 
arrested. At a glance Molitor saw that this was 
his old friend Tibbeck, who looked timidly at him. 

“ Well, what is it ? Whom have you there ?” asked 
the Commissary, as he rose from his chair. 

“ I went to watch the alley,” began Schmidt, “as 
you had ordered me, and went for that purpose into 
a room of the beer-shop opposite. Sitting at the 
window I could see the jail and the street alike. 
This man here kept me waiting a long time. At last 
he came down the alley, looking anxiously all 
around and then cautiously approaching the prison. 
Quick as lightning 1 was after him, but kept close 
to the wall, so that he could not see me. He now 
sauntered down the alley like a harmless wanderer; 
of a sudden I heard someone whistle two short notes 
and then a long one ; this was Tibbeck, I was sure. 
Then the whistling was repeated, but it sounded 
lower and much more subdued ; this came from the 
jail. Now Tibbeck stopped under the window you 
pointed out to me, and as he looked around to malce 
sure of being unobserved, I had him suddenly by 
the wrist ; he tried to resist, but I soon had possessed 
myself of this object, which he' was evidently going 
to throw in through the open window.” 

With these words the man handed Molitor a slip 
of paper, which had been folded around a pebble 
to make it heavy, and then was securely fastened 
with twine. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


191 


“ That is a nice story, Tibbeck,” said the Commis- 
sary to the prisoner, whose eyes were helplessly 
wandering around the room. “ Is this the way you 
reward me for my confidence? Instead of helping 
me and the poor ladies at your house, you become 
an accomplice of that thief ! Are you not ashamed, 
Tibbeck? I thought you were an honest man, and 
now you prove to be a good-for-nothing rascal !” 

Tibbeck shook with rage ; his pale face flushed 
up and his eyes rested for a moment with intense 
bitterness on the face of the Commissary. 

“Yes, a miserable, common rascal — nothing bet- 
ter !“ he exclaimed, and with a face as red as a poppy 
he came up to the table. “ What do you want me 
to do with you now ?’' continued the Commissary. 
“ I ought to send you back to jail.”" 

“ For God's sake,” stammered Tibbeck, looking 
vaguely around in the room, “ anything but that! 
Just for my wife’s sake and my daughter’s sake. 
Lina is going to be married, and if I am sent to 
prison again, her betrothed will back out, I am 
sure — ” 

“ And you want me to take pity on you, miserable 
creature,” Molitor cut him short. “ Do you take pity 
on Mrs. Wigan and her daughter? You become an 
accomplice of that inveterate blackguard — I think I 
can do nothing better than to send you back again 
at once.” 

Here he turned around as if he meant to sign at 
once an order for arrest. The joiner began to 
groan piteously. 


192 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ But, Mr. Commissary,” he said at last, “ I have 
not committed any- crime ! 1 am perfectly willing 

to tell you all that I have really done. 1 only took 
a few lines that Skimmer had written, to Mr. Du us- 
ing. I had hid them between stocking and shoe, so 
that nobody found them when they searched me. 
That was all.” 

Molitor’s face looked feverish again and he felt 
that a strange excitement overcame him once more, 
such as he had repeatedly felt when he thought 
himself on the brink of some great discovery. But 
he concealed it carefully, and looking sharply at the 
man before him, he repeated : 

“ Ah, Mr. Dunsing was to get the letter?” 

“ Yes, Mr. Dunsing, who has the factory at 
Seaton.” 

“ Well, and what was written on the paper ?” 

“ H-m, I could not read it,dt was Spanish or some 
other Latin language,” answered the mechanic, 
greatly embarrassed. 

“ Well, you gave the paper to Mr. Dunsing, and 
what did he say ?” 

“ He did not say anything ; he laughed and told 
me I was a fool,” replied Tibbeck. 

“ Well, and then ?” 

“ That was all.” 

“ Man, why will you lie !” shouted Molitor in a 
rage; “ shall I send you to prison ?” 

“Oh, please don’t do that, Mr. Commissary!” 
begged the mechanic, twisting his cap excitedly till 
it resembled a rope ; “ he told me to come again the 



MOLITOK INTRODUCING JOHANNES TO THE WIDOW.— Chapter XVII. 



4 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


193 


next day, and then he gave me another paper and 
asked me to throw it into the window from which 
the first had come.” 

“And you did that? And what was on the 
paper?” 

“ Well, I know it was wrong, but there was not a 
single word on the paper — ” 

“ Man, are you lying again ? I shall have to send 
you back after all.” 

“ No, Mr. Molitor, don’t do that, I beseech you. 1 
assure you there was nothing but mere numbers. I 
could not make out anything.” 

“And the cashier sent the answers in the same 
way ?” asked the Inquisitor. 

“ Exactly!” replied the workman. 

“ But how did he know that you were there, 
ready to receive his message?” 

“ Because he told me when I was in the same 
cell with him that I must come every day at the 
same hour, and give a signal by whistling.” 

And the man repeated the signal as the Com- 
missary had heard it. 

“Well,” continued the latter, “he threw the 
paper out of the window, and you picked it up and 
ran away ?” 

“Just so, Mr. Molitor.” 

“ And then you carried the paper to Mr. Duns- 
ing, and he paid you handsomely, no doubt ?” 

“Very far from that, sir! He was much more 
inclined to throw me out of the window when I 
came the second time to him. He went with the 


194 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


paper into the next room, and when he came back 
he looked deadly pale in his face, and told me to 
come the day after and get an answer.” 

“ When was that ?” 

“ That was to-day, sir, and the constable took the 
paper.” 

“Ah, indeed!” said the Commissary; “and you 
really do not know what these ciphers mean ?” He 
had in the meantime taken off the threads that held 
the stone in the paper, and was now smoothing it 
carefully. 

“ After all, this can wait,” he said with a glance 
at the scrawl, of which as yet he could make noth- 
ing. “What am I to do with you?” he asked the 
man, who was still shaking and trembling with 
fear. 

“ Don’t make me unhappy for life,” he begged 
piteously. “ I told you the whole truth. I had no 
idea I was doing anything so very wrong, and as he 
moreover promised me a thousand marks — ” 

“What ! He promised to give you a thousand 
marks?” 

“ Yes, indeed ! And, by God, that is a big sum 
for one of us. And then, I thought, 1 might now 
be able to settle that other business.” 

“ What other business do you mean ?” 

“Oh, nothing! nothing !” replied the man, step- 
ping now on one foot and now on the other, and 
twisting his cap into a rope. 

“What did you mean? You must have meant 
something !” 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


195 


“ I was only thinking of the furniture for our 
rooms, and what a Godsend this money would be to 
my wife !” 

“ I have a great mind to confront you and your 
thousand-mark friend,” said the Commissary, 
thoughtfully, and went to the bell-rope. 

“You can do that,” replied Tibbeck, eagerly. 
“ I told you the truth and nothing but the truth !” 

Molitor dropped the hand he had raised to ring 
the bell and said : 

“ Well, perhaps 1 had better first learn something 
about that piece of paper.” 

Then suddenly stepping up close to the mechanic, 
he seized him by the shoulders and shook him vio- 
lently. 

“ Let me tell you, my man, you are a thorough 
scamp. If it were not for your wife and your 
daughter — Will you promise me not to have any- 
thing to do with your two noble friends — Yes or 
No ?” 

“ Certainly, sir, certainly ! Only do not send me 
back to jail.” 

The Commissary turned to the detective. 
“ Schmidt,” he said, “ you will keep your eye on 
this man, and I’ll order two other detectives to do 
the same.” 

“ Now, have a care, my good friend,” he said to 
the workman. “ If you do the slightest thing, you 
wander to jail ! You will not show yourself at Sea- 
ton, nor in the alley below— do you hear?” 

“Great Heavens!” cried the man; “ I thought I 


196 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


could earn those thousand marks easily enough, and 
now — but really, sir, I never thought there was any 
harm in what he asked me to do.” 

“ Clear out !” said Molitor, and Tibbeck nearly 
jumped for joy as he heard the welcome words. 

The Commissary dismissed the detective also, and 
when he was alone he said to himself : 

“This is an important discovery !” and drew the 
little note from under the paper-weight. Alas ! 
this was all he saw written on it : 

“V. 8,25,9-17; III. 5, B, B-16; VI. 14. 5,3-4; 
IV. 21. 25, 16; V. I, 1-2.” 

Molitor was, of course, no novice at reading 
ciphers. Many a time he had worked hard at new 
systems, but so far never in vain. This time, how- 
ever, his experience forsook him, and for a long 
time he stared at the Roman and Arabic signs, 
utterly discomfited. All his former efforts failed on 
this occasion and for hours he sat, bent over the 
mysterious paper, trying in vain to discover the key. 
At last his head began to ache, and he felt stupefied 
by the continued fruitless exertion. He tried to 
refresh his mind by a few hours’ absolute rest, and 
then to begin once more with renewed vigor. But 
in this also he was unsuccessful ; sleep fled from 
him, and a thousand sneering and laughing gnomes 
began to dance around him, their long, bony fin- 
gers pointing at him and holding up countless prob- 
lems in arithmetic before his weary eyesight. Sud- 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


197 


denly, as if by inspiration, it came to his mind that 
the keeper had told him how busily the prisoner 
had studied his Bible before writing the mysterious 
note. Instantly he jumped up — the Bible must have 
been the book used by the cashier toyvrite in safety ! 
Without losing a moment, the young man arose and 
dressed with feverish haste. Then he took his 
Bible down and at once set to work. The New 
Testament alone was of importance, because no 
other part of the Bible is found in prison-cells. 
Almost at the first effort light broke. The Roman 
letters, he found, corresponded with those used in 
the Table of Contents, and in a moment he had the 
first little sentence before him : “ I am not what 

you take me to be, but.” Molitor’s eyes were 
radiant with delight. Here was sense, and no 
doubt the words had a profound meaning for the 
initiated. The second part: “III. 5, B, B-16,” was 
now eas}^ enough ; it meant : “But I will do it.” 
The next ciphers were more difficult to unravel, till 
an accidental glance at the heading of the next 
chapter revealed the meaning. It was “Christ’s 
Ascension ” in the German version, and now Molitor 
was triumphant: “I am not what you take me to 
be ; but I will do it the day after Ascension.” 

Almost painfully excited by this sudden discov- 
er}^ Molitor jumped up and walked a few times up 
and down in the room. But almost instantly a new 
difficulty confronted him in his triumph. What 
was D unsing going to do on Ascensian Day? Next 
Sunday was Ascension Day. Might not the mechanic 


198 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


after all know more than he professed to know ? He 
almost repented not having had him arrested at 
once, but upon reflection he concluded it was better 
so. What was most important was the clearly 
established conspiracy between Dunsing and the 
ex-cashier, and he could hardly wait for the time 
when he might call on the Judge and report to him 
his all-important discovery. In his heart he felt 
convinced that this was the turning point in the 
great cause cil^bve^ and that the American must 
sooner or later be set free, as soon as the real author 
of the crime should be discovered. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

The report which Molitor laid before Judge 
Feilen on that morning, excited him greatly. He 
read the deciphered message again and again and 
paid the young man the highest compliments on his 
perspicacity. 

“ But now,” he concluded, “ what is the nature of 
the conspiracy which can no longer be doubted? 

“ I have so far only guessed, no facts as yet!”l 
was the Commissary’s cautious reply. ” This only 
is certain : their common motive is a bad one. 
But what can the prisoner mean by guarding 
against any mistaken notion concerning himself, 
when he says : ‘ 1 am not the man you think I am.’ 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


199 


And then the second question : ‘ What is Dunsing 
going to do?’ Is our bird going to say Good-bye 
to his cage?” 

“ How would it do to let the note reach its des- 
tination ?” 

And then make the prisoner believe that Duns- 
ing is willing to comply with his wishes?” asked 
the Judge, looking at the younger man with great 
interest. 

“ By no means, Judge. I think we would succeed 
better if we altered the note so as to convey an 
absolute refusal on the part of the manufacturer.” 

The Judge reflected a moment, then he said : 

“ And do you think you could change the secret 
message so carefully that it would not arouse any 
suspicion on the part of the prisoner ?” 

“ Nothing is easier — provided I have guessed 
correctly, and I have also, luckily, a messenger at 
hand who will forward the note to the prisoner. 
The man Tibbeck, who is so happy having escaped 
a long imprisonment, that he will do anything to 
please us.” 

“ The important point will be to see what effect 
such a disappointment will produce on the pris- 
oner,” said the Judge. “ I willingly authorize you 
to do what you think best.” 

“ I’ll go at once to work. But do you not think. 
Judge, this man Dunsing ought to be watched ? I 
suspect him!” And when the Judge looked at him 
inquiringly, he went on: “No doubt you remember 
the indorsed notes which we found in Banker 


200 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


Wigan’s private safe when the house was searched. 
Dunsing, at that time, declared he had received the 
two notes from his future father-in-law in payment 
of a debt. Now I have questioned the Receiver of 
the bank, who has searched every corner and exam- 
ined every book, and he insists upon it that no such 
indebtedness — amounting to thirty thousand marks 
— is anywhere entered. The banker’s private 
account alone is charged with the amount, in pay- 
ment of the notes. Now, when the creditors held 
their meeting, and these notes were, as a matter of 
course, laid before them with the others, several 
members denied their genuineness. An expert was 
thereupon called in to decide on the banker’s sig- 
nature, and he remained in doubt. He stated that 
he could not positively declare it a forgery, but 
that, if it were such, it had been done with uncom- 
mon skill.” 

“ What ! Do you still maintain that Dunsing may 
have forged the indorsement ?” asked the Judge, 
throwing himself back in his easy-chair and almost 
anxiously studying the young man’s features. 

“ At all events, there is much to be said in favor 
of my suspicion,” replied Molitor, with sparkling 
eyes. “ I have information, obtained secretly, that 
the manufacturer has already, during Wigan’s life- 
time, suffered grievous losses, and now barely man- 
ages to keep his head above water. I can produce 
witnesses, who would affirm on oath, that they have 
lent him money only on the security of his impend^ 
ing marriage with the banker’s daughter, who was 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


201 


[expected to bring him a magnificent dower. In 
|such a perilous situation, Dunsing might very well 
[have resorted to desperate means, and as he could not 
jwell venture to ask Wigan for new loans, he might 
ireadily have forged the two notes with the banker’s 
'name on the back, in order to save himself from 
[threatening ruin. We know that the day for the 
[wedding was originally fixed on a day only forty- 
leight hours before the notes were due ; hence Duns- 
jing w^s safe, for Wigan would, he reckoned, not 
I brand his son-in-law as a forger. At the worst he 
[might even have employed part of his wife’s dower 
[to pay the notes before they were presented for pay- 
(ment and thus reached the banker’s eye. But then 
!came the fatal blow ; the death of a distant kinsman 
caused the postponement of the wedding for a whole 
month, and thus defeated Dunsing’s plans. Without 
means, and hard pressed by his creditors, he could not 
recall the notes, and thus they reached the unsus- 
picious banker. The day of their falling due was 
near at hand, and with it the ruin that threatened 
Dunsing. 

“ Nor must I forget the peculiar smile with which 
the banker’s confidential clerk presented the notes 
to us. Now this man is evidently a thorough 
scamp, capable of every wickedness. I submit, there- 
fore — may it not be that these two bad men, Diins- 
ing and the clerk, may have made common cause — 
the clerk for a large consideration — and may have 
conspired against the banker? It is true, Dunsing 
denies having had any visitor on the fatal night — I 


202 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


am, however, able to prove that such a visitor came 
to his house at that very time. What is more prob- 
able now, but that this nightly visitor was the con- 
fidential clerk, who had hurried to the factory to 
report that the notes had been paid by the banker. 
This may have frightened Dunsing and, in his 
terror, he may have despaired, seeing certain ruin 
before him, and the loss of his betrothed as a matter 
of course. What more natural than that he should 
have then formed the desperate resolve to silence | 
the banker before he should take any measures for 
his destruction? He expected the banker; but bv 
an accident he found out that Wigan was already at i 
Seaton and in his own villa. His accomplice, Slum- 
mer, lay in wait for the poor man, and no sooner 
had John Grover and Wigan parted, than the latter 
received the blow that ended his life. j 

“ That would also explain the disappearance of 
the banker’s pocket-book, for who could be more 
deeply interested in its destruction than Dunsing?” 

'‘You forget the gold watch and the chain, as ! 
well as the porte-monnaie, all of which seem to have 
been stolen ?” interposed the Judge. 

“ It may be that they were taken only in order to 
give the murder the appearance of a robbery,” re- 
plied Molitor, promptly. “ I am quite ready to 
admit that there are many points of evidence which 
speak against such a crime on the part of Dunsing ; j 
but the presumption that he is the guilty man is at 
least as strongly supported as that Grover is the cul- 
prit. If I am right, the presence of so many matches. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


203 


that had been lit. and scattered all around the dead 
man, is also explained. Either the guilty men 
searched their victim in the street and having- 
found the pocket-book, in which they thought the 
papers might have been, and then repenting of their 
unwise hurry, they may have gone after the corpse, 
to strip it of watch and chain also — or the whole 
search may have taken place in the cellar.” 

The Judge looked at the ceiling of the room in 
deep meditation. At last he decided: “We must 
wait for the success of our forged letter before we 
take any new step.” 

“ Then 1 beg leave to go to work at once,” said 
the young man, and as the Judge consented, he 
hastened away. 

It was little more than an hour later when the 
Commissary returned with a slip of paper, covered 
with ciphers like the former; he at once handed it 
to the Judge. It contained these signs: 

“ V. B, 25, 9-16; III. 5. B. B-15 ; III. 5, 32. II ; 
III. 5, B. 16 ; IV. 18, 21, 1-5 ; IV. 18, 20, 3-5 ; VIII. 
I, 12, 30; IV. 18, 23, 7-B ; IV. 18, 38, 24-28 ; IV. 18, 
24, 15 ; V. 9, 4, 17-20; VII. 16, 5, 1-2 ; VII. 15, 58, 
6-7; VII. 16, 8,6.” 

With a smile he looked at the utterly unintelli- 
gible writing and then at another slip, which Moli- 
tor laid before him, and on which was written : “ I 
am not the one you think I am. 1 will not do it. 
Why do you ask me ? If I have acted badly, prove 


204 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


it, that it is a great wrong. I find no blame in me. 
Why do you persecute me ? I shall remain firm, 
immovable." 

“Excellent! excellent 1” cried Judge Feilen and 
looked delighted. “ I hope this will have a decided 
effect on the prisoner I But we must act promptly, 
dear friend ! Take at once the necessary meas- 
ures 

The effect of this mysterious message, which Tib- 
beck readily undertook to forward to the prisoner, 
surpassed their boldest expectations. They watched 
the prisoner through the small opening in the door 
of his cell. As the passages were still dark while 
the gas in the cell was burning, the room was as 
bright as day, and they could see all that was going 
on inside, while the prisoner did not suspect that he 
was watched. The two officials had waited till they 
heard a low subdued whistling from the street, 
then they drew nearer and distinctly heard the fall 
of a pebble in the cell, the crackling of stiff paper, 
the opening of the envelope and of a letter which 
they saw him read greedily. 

It was a perfect comedy to see the prisoner’s face, 
which was shone upon by the gas-flame, express 
the various sentiments which the forged letter called 
forth. He looked with every sentence that he deci- 
phered more savage and bitter, till at last, when he 
had made out the last word, he looked furious, 
jumped up from his low seat, and tearing the note 
into a thousand small pieces, threw the fragments 
into his bucket. Then he ran up and down in his 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


205 


cell, with perfect rage in all his features, and with a 
thousand fierce curses shook his fists in the face of 
his invisible enemy. 

This might have lasted a quarter of an hour ; then 
h'e suddenly stood still and, with fury in his eyes, 
drew the string that made the distant bell ring an 
alarm. 

The Judge withdrew with his companion and 
ordered one of the keepers to look after the prisoner’s 
demands. The man returned very soon and reported 
that Slummer asked to be carried before the Judge, 
as he had very important and new revelations to 
make. 

When the man returned with this message, the 
Judge and Molitor exchanged looks of deep mean- 
ing. The clouds were evidently breaking and light 
was approaching. Then Feilen looked at his watch 
and told the man : 

“ In ten minutes bring Slummer to my office,” and 
turning to the Commissary, he added : “Will you 
have the kindness to come with me ? 1 should wish 

you to be. present at the man’s examination.” 

When ten minutes later the clerk was introduced 
into the Judge’s office, the two gentlemen started at 
the expression of subdued rage which his face bore. 

“You have asked to see me — what is the infor- 
mation which you desire to impart?” the Judge 
asked, in a very formal manner, so as to conceal the 
excitement which he felt at this critical moment. 
He pretended to look for something in the piles of 
papers and documents that encumbered the table. 


206 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


Molitor also assumed an indifferent air, although he 
did not for a moment take his eyes from the prisoner 
and almost anxiously watched his demeanor. 

“ I feel impelled to impart to you certain secrets, 
which I doubt not Avill prove to be of great import- 
ance to you. They concern the assassination of 
Banker Wigan, my former employer.” 

His words were apparently of no interest for the 
Judge, who received them with an incredulous 
smile. 

“ Ah !” he said, “ the old story ! My good man, 
you have so often imparted to me, as you call it, 
these unintelligible secrets, and they have so invaria- 
bly proved to be nothing but air-bubbles, that I really 
do not care to hear any more, if that is all you have 
to say. I am very busy just now, and your informa- 
tion can wait, I dare say.” 

“No, no! You shall know all,” shouted the 
wretch, trembling with intense excitement and 
stamping with his foot. “ That man shall not escape 
his punishment, and 1 will teach him that I am not 
to be insulted with impunity !” He paused here, and 
then approaching the judge’s writing-table, he said, 
in a firm and impressive voice : “ I charge the man- 
ufacturer, Richard Dunsing of Seaton, with the mur- 
der of Banker Wigan !” 

The two officials, although prepared to hear rev- 
elations of grave import, were in no small conster- 
nation when they heard this definite accusation. 

“What do you say?” asked the Judge, recover- 
ing quickly and glancing at his clerk to warn him 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


207 


that he must most carefully take down every word 
of the ex-cashier. “ You accuse the manufacturer, 
Richard Dunsing, of having murdered your former 
employer? How can that be? You know very 
well that another person has been arrested on 
account of this very crime and is now in the hands 
of Justice.” 

Slummer laughed insolently. 

“ Then you, gentlemen, priests of the Goddess 
Justitia, have committed a nice blunder!” he 
shouted, defiantly. “ I do not believe the American 
to be guilty !” 

“ All the more was it your duty to come to his 
assistance with your knowledge of the truth, and 
not to let an innocent man be threatened with 
death, perhaps 1” said the Judge, sternly reprov- 
ing the prisoner. 

“ Ah I that troubles me little 1 Let the American 
stay in jail till he turns black — what is that to me ? 
Everybody for himself ! But I have my reasons 
now, very strong and well-weighed reasons, for 
tearing the mask from Mr. Dunsing’s sweet face !” 

“Your charge is probabl}’ nothing but an act of 
revenge, which may go on record and there can 
remain for all time to come !” replied the Judge, 
with apparent indifference. “ At least, if you insist, 
you will have to bring very strong and definite 
evidence.” 

“ And that is what I am able to do and mean to 
do ! Of course, I cannot produce witnesses who 
were actually present and saw how Dunsing crushed 


208 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


the skull of my former employer. But if that were 
always necessary, no murder would ever be proved 
and avenged by Justice,” answered Slummer, with 
low cunning in his eye and a triumphant, diabolical 
smile on his thin lips. “ At all events, I can prove 
that Dunsing was most deeply interested in getting 
rid of the banker.” 

“ Then tell us what you know, but mind you 
stick closely to the truth,” replied the Judge, looking 
at the Commissary. 

“ Well, then, it was on the same day on which the 
marriage of Dunsing with my former employer’s 
daughter was to have taken place — on January 28th 
— when I happened to meet Dunsing at a restaurant. 
Generally he had taken little notice of me, often 
even treated me very haughtily, looking down 
almost contemptuously upon the clerks of his future 
father-in-law. On that daj^ however, he apparently 
sought me out among my friends and courteously 
invited me to empty a bottle of his favorite^ wine 
with him. After having made a number of polite 
speeches and paid me several compliments, the fool 
fancied he had won my confidence and — made his 
confession. 

“ He began by telling me — what I had long since 
known — that he was financially embarrassed, that 
this was, however, merely momentary and would, 
of course, be at an end as soon as he received the 
very considerable dower of his wife. Nevertheless, 
the embarrassment, he said, was too serious to keep 
it altogether from the banker, to whom he had 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


209 


ascribed it to specially heavy orders, that had all 
come at once. Upon the banker’s offering to assist 
him he had made two notes, which Wigan had 
kindly indorsed at once, stipulating, however, in his 
own interest, that the notes should not pass out of 
his own hands, but remain there as security. Now, 
however, circumstances were such that he must let 
the notes fall into strange hands. 

“ If the wedding had taken place on the appointed 
day, all would have been right, but now that it had 
been so long postponed, he looked with fear and 
trembling to the 9 th of February, as his father-in-law 
might misinterpret his putting the notes into circu- 
lation, and this might lead even to a rupture. I was 
to do him the great favor to conceal the disappear- 
ance from the banker, and he promised to pay me, as 
my reward, the amount of the notes, thirty thousand 
marks. 

“ At first, 1 confess, I was strongly tempted to do 
what he asked — what was the harm ? At the worst 
I could, myself, liquidate the means to recover the 
notes — ” 

“ Of course,” said the Judge, scornfully, “ as you 
controlled all the deposits in the bank.” 

Slummer cast a poisonous look at him, but went 
on quietly with his account. 

“ But when 1 thought the matter over, I began to 
doubt. As confidential clerk, I could at all times 
examine the books, even the private and secret 
books of the firm. Now, I knew Mr. Wigan was a 
very cautious, far-seeing business-man, who con- 


210 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


scientiously entered every small amount, even when 
he spent it for his own use.” 

“ Do you mean to say that Mr. Wigan could not 
have spent or lost or lent a sum of money without 
entering it at least in his private account-book ?” 
asked the Judge, with apparent indifference. 

“Just so,” replied Skimmer, not thinking of the 
effect of such a confession. 

“ How, then, can you dare assent,” continued the 
Judge, now in a very impressive tone, “ that your 
deceased employer lost many hundred thousands in 
speculations on ’Change ? A man of such precise 
business habits could certainly not have failed to 
keep notes of his gains and losses in his private 
account-book, and 3’et his papers have been searched 
in vain for a single entry of the kind.” 

These words made a deep impression upon the 
ex-cashier. He evidently felt that his thirst of 
revenge had misled him, that he had mentioned a 
fact which would turn against him in the hands of a 
clever lawyer. His face turned deadly pale, his 
habitual presence of mind seemed to have left him 
completely, and his eyes wandered helplessly from 
one face to another. 

“ Pshaw !” he broke forth at last, “ that is neither 
here nor there! I am lost, I know. I feel the rope 
almost around my neck. I cannot escape now, I see 
it clearly — but at least my sweet Mr. Dunsing shall 
keep me company. Will you listen to me, or will 
you not?” 

The Judge frowned and seemed to be disposed to 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


211 


reprove the prisoner on account of his improper 
conduct, but an almost imploring glance from the 
Commissary kept him silent. 

‘‘ I may assume, then,” interposed Molitor, “ that 
you found no kind of private notes in the books of 
your former employer that might have thrown 
some light on the two notes?” 

Slummer shook his head once more energetically. 

“ No !” he replied firmly, “ and this convinced me 
at once that my principal could not possibly have 
issued two such large notes. He would most assur- 
edly have entered the amount, not in one place only, 
but in two or three — he who never omitted setting 
down a mark given as a fee to some workman or to 
a messenger. It is simply impossible that he should 
have failed to set down a sum of thirty thousand 
marks, payable eventually on the ninth of Febru- 
ary. 

“ Besides, why should he have made a mystery of 
the acceptance of two such notes with me, from 
whom he had no secret whatsoever in matters of 
business? Why should he, contrary to every habit 
of his commercial life, have insisted upon it that 
these two notes should not be allowed to go out of 
his hands? With this condition upon them, they had 
no value whatever. If he did not trust his future son- 
in-law sufficiently to hand him money or good bills 
of exchange, he might have simply indorsed Mr 
Dunsing’s notes, and his name would have sufficed 
to cover ten times the amount of these mysterious 
notes.” 


^12 


I’HF TELL-TALE WATCit. 


“ Then you suspect that they are forgeries?” 

“ 1 do not suspect it — 1 know it! ” replied the ex- 
cashier positivel}". “ Let rne tell you what a comedy 
was played in my employer’s private office on the af- 
ternoon of February the ninth. “I had waited the 
whole forenoon to see the notes presented — that they 
would not simply be paid by the cashier, I knew, be- 
cause as a matter of course, no provision had been 
made for such payment. At last, towards five o’clock, 
the assistant-cashier appeared in my office with the 
two notes in his hands and asked me what was to be 
done with them. I took the papers at once and carried 
them into Mr. Wigan’s private office. He seemed 
to be greatly excited and at first refused to talk busi- 
ness with me, but when I insisted and showed him 
the papers, he looked dumbfounded. ‘ I am supposed 
to have signed that,’ he exclaimed at first sight, ‘and 
Dunsing has given these notes.’ Once more he 
looked at me amazed, and then asked very sternly, 
if I permitted myself; perhaps, to enjoy a bad joke. 
^ “ ‘ Then your signature is a forgery, Mr. Wigan ? ’ 
I begged leave to inquire. 

“ He looked at me fixedly, and once more gazing 
at his name as it was written across the notes, he 
murmured to himself: ‘ That’ll break his neck! The 
infamous rascal!’ Then he rose, deadly pale, and 
with every nerve twitching in terrible excitement. 

“I knew him-so well — I was quite sure that it 
needed onl}^ a word to make him raging mad. This 
was my reason for keeping perfectly quiet, and in 
apparent humility to await his orders. For several 


TH12 TELL-tALU WATCH. 


m 

minutes he continued the fearful inner combat ; then 
he said hoarsely in an entirely changed voice : ‘ The 
notes must be paid. Direct the assistant-cashier to 
pay the amount and to charge my private account 
with the same.’ But when I wanted to take back 
the two notes, grievously disappointed by the fail- 
ure of my effort, he threw himself like an infuriated 
tiger upon the writing-table, placing both hands 
upon the strips of paper. ‘ No! The papers remain 
here in my keeping I ’ he almost shouted, speaking 
like a master. ‘ Now, go ! I want to be alone 1’ ” 

“ That is certainly very suspicious,” said the Judge, 
listening intently and looking at the ex-cashier, as if 
he meant to read his very soul. “ And you are ready 
to swear to it?” he added, after a pause. 

“ I can swear to it any moment!” cried the man 
impudently, “ for whatever mistake I have made in 
any other direction, I could never commit perjury.” 

** And what makes you think now,” continued the 
Judge, “ that the great manufacturer, Dunsing, is in 
any way connected with the calamity that has 
befallen the banker ? He may very well have forged 
notes— but there is a long way from forgery to — 
murder ! Besides, how could he possibly have kriown 
that the rich banker would visit Seaton on that 
evening ? ” 

The prisoner smiled again insolently. 

“When 1 returned to my employer to report to 
him that the matter had been settled, I found him 
ready to leave the bank. He ordered me to take 
charge of the business, as important duties called 


214 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


him to Seaton, where he must see Dunsing. He 
was in the act of giving me additional instructions 
when the letter-carrier entered and interrupted him, 
handing him a “Speedy Delivery” letter. He eagerly 
opened it and turned once more pale unto death ; 
then he threw the envelope into the waste-paper 
basket and walked several times up and down in the 
room. 

“ ‘ I shall have to change my plan after all,’ he said 
and, looking at his watch, he added : ‘ I see it is 
nearly six already. I shall go to Seaton as I 
intended, but I shall not be able to meet Mr. Duns- 
ing. I shall have to beg you to represent me in this 
matter, to hunt up Mr. Dunsing, and to hand him this 
paper.’ With these words he sat down at his writ- 
ing-table and in feverish haste jotted down a few 
words. 

“I ventured to look over his shoulder and saw to 
my amazement that what he wrote was a short notice 
of the breaking off of his daughter’s engagement to 
Mr. Dunsing. Then beseemed to yield to a sudden 
inspiration. He crumpled up the paper on which he 
had written the notice, threw it angrily on the carpet 
and even kicked it with his foot far under the table. 

* You may as well tell the gentleman what I wished 
to have him know,’ he said passionately, and then, 
his voice swelling with indignation, he added: ‘ Tell 
him that if he has not arranged the matter in ques- 
tion by to-morrow noon, I shall put it into the hands 
of the Prosecuting Attorney.’ 

“ He was so terribly excited that I thought he 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


215 


hardly knew what he was saying. I onl}^ bowed in 
silence and went at once to Seaton, to see Mr. Dun- 
sing at his factory.” 

Then you were the visitor who was seen by 
several people and whose presence Dunsing never- 
theless denied?” asked the Judge, taken by surprise, 
and the Commissary also drew near, deeply inter- 
ested in the prisoner’s revelation. 

The latter only nodded. 

“ I was delighted to see the rich young man’s 
desperate embarrassment, when he heard the mes- 
sage ; he insisted upon seeing the banker that very 
evening and throwing himself at his feet, craving 
forgiveness. When I told him that the banker was 
here present, in Seaton, he was surprised, and then 
I thought for the first time 1 read in his eyes the 
resolution to do something rash and unnatural. Of 
course, I had no idea of what this was. But later, 
when the misfortune came, I well remember this 
impression. In fine, my supposition is, at least, very 
plausible. Dunsing, who knew that the banker had 
no other friends in the little colony of villas, and 
would, therefore, not likely stay at any other house 
but his own, no doubt went to his future fatlier-in- 
law’s villa, as soon as I had left him. He may have 
arrived there at the very moment when the Ameri- 
can, whom you hold in prison, was coming away 
from Wigan. What happened next, I dare say Mr. 
Dunsing can tell you. 1 do not believe in any acci- 
dent that should have happened to the banker and,' 
according to my view of the matter, no one on earth 


216 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


had as much reason to wish for a calamity as Dun- 
sing.” 

A triumphant smile hovered around his thin nar- 
row lips, as he said this. He evidently felt proud of 
his keen perception and tried to read the admiration 
that was due to him in the face of his visitors. 

But the Judge had become very thoughtful. ‘M 
must make you aware,” he said, after a pause, “that 
3^ou will have to repeat these statements under oath. 
Are you prepared to do that ?” 

“ This moment !” replied the ex-cashier, looking 
as if he were ready to face death to secure the vic- 
tory to Truth. “ I have not said a word that is not 
absolutely true.” 

“ Well, then we will take your deposition at 
once,” said the Judge, and when this had been done, 
and the whole statement had been read aloud once 
more for the prisoner’s benefit, the oath was admin- 
istered and the prisoner sent back to his cell. 

The two men had evidentl}^ been deeply im- 
pressed by the recent events; the Judge took his 
seat at the table, drew a red-bound volume from a 
drawer and began to fill up a blank order, glancing 
but once at his companion. 

The Commissary, also, looked solemn and showed 
in his features the expectation of a great and 
important step that would, no doubt, be presently 
taken. He was right, for after a short hesitation, 
the Judge handed him an order, and looking at the 
youger rnan with great kindliness and almost affec- 
tion, he said, formally and solemnly : 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


217 


“ Mr. Commissary Molitor, I herewith order you 
to arrest Richard D unsing, in Seaton, and to send 
him at once to the City Prison !” 


CHAPTER XIV. 

Early on the next morning the passage, upon which 
the Judge's office was situated, was full of life and 
excitement, for at a late hour on the preceding 
day the Judge had no sooner heard of Mr. Dun- 
sing's arrest, than he issued a number of summonses 
for people that were to appear before him. 

The more intelligent factory hands had been 
selected by the overseers at the Judge's special 
order, and had already been examined. Mr. D unsing 
seemed to have been rather unpopular with the 
hands, for only the janitor of the great factory 
remained faithful to him. The others were all more 
or less disposed to complain and, although this was 
altogether foreign to the investigation now going 
on, they declared that for some time he had paid 
them very irregularly, and was in debt with many 
of them to a considerable amount. 

What was far more important, however, was that 
the janitor, as well as the two night-watchmen, de- 
clared havingseen a visitor on that evening who came 
to call on Mr. Dunsing. The janitor had soon after 
gone home, but one of the watchmen added, that he 


218 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


had seen his master go away after his visitor had 
left him in a state of great, visible excitement, and 
that when he had returned two hours later, Mr. 
Dunsing had been so disturbed in mind that he did 
not notice the watchman at all, but without return- 
ing his respectful salutation, had gone straight to 
his room. 

The old housekeeper, who managed the bachelor 
household, was next examined. She had, however, 
little to say, and seemed to be exceedingly anxious 
not to say anything that might be injurious to her 
master’s reputation — still, she also had to admit, after 
an almost painful cross-examination, that Mr. Dun- 
sing had left the house in the night from the 9th to 
the loth February. Unfortunately she had been 
suffering from an acute toothache, which kept her 
awake. But, of course, she could not swear to the 
identity of the man whose going and coming she had 
only heard. 

Finally, the owner of the factory himself was 
ushered in. As soon as he entered, he broke forth 
into a storm of complaints and reproached the au- 
thorities with an abuse of their power. He looked 
pale, unsettled, and no longer possessed of that 
easy well-poised self-esteem which characterized him 
in the world. Even his figure showed a certain 
coming down from its habitual upright and self-as- 
serting carriage. His eyes seemed to have sunk 
back into their dark orbits and looked around now 
resting only for an instant on the features of his 
enemies, the Judge and his companions, and then 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


219 


wandering aimlessly along the walls, as if in search 
of some place where they might find rest and peace. 

I protest against it ! You have no right to ar- 
rest me ! 1 make you responsible for all the griev- 

ous injury this high-handed and unwarrantable pro- 
ceeding will do me and my business !” 

“ For the present I have to make you responsible, 
sir!” replied the Judge, calmly but very decisively. 
“ You appear here before me, your Judge, accused 
of a great crime, and it is for you to clear yourself 
of the charge — if you can.” 

“ What do you mean ? I am not conscious of any 
crime 1 ” the prisoner cried out excitedly, and yet he 
could not prevent his eyes from casting a furtive 
look at the voluminous papers that were piled up 
before the Judge. 

Perhaps you would do better to answer some 
questions of mine,' resumed the Judge, not in the 
least affected by the violence of the man before him. 
“ Did you see a visitor on the evening of February 
9 th, and who was the gentleman ?” 

“ How can 1 know that after so long a time? 
Friends come and go at my house, as it happens!” 
replied the young man impertinently. 

“ And yet that evening has produced a radical 
and permanent change in your fate. You might 
readily recall even the smallest details of all that 
happened then.” 

“Ah, yes! Now I remember!” said Dunsing, 
shading his eyes with his right hand. “ You mean 
the night in which the banker, Wigan, perished ?” 


220 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ Exactly ! It was the night when the unfortunate 
banker Wigan, was murdered,” replied the Judge, 
nodding his head. ‘‘Well — who was your visitor? 
It was about eight o’clock.” 

Dunsing’s eyes wandered once more from face to 
face, from one wall of the room to another ; he hesit- 
ated, evidently to gain time and to prepare his 
answer. But when the Judge somewhat impatiently 
repeated the question, he cried out violently : 

“ I do not know of any visitor — I was unwell that 
night; I was alone in my house all the evening.” 

“ I must tell you that you do not tell the truth. 
Three witnesses of the highest standing have con- 
fessed that you did receive a gentleman and kept 
him for some time ; it may even be that it was the 
banker, Wigan, himself, who called on you.” 

“ That is a lie !” cried the prisoner, while his pale 
face flushed slightly, though but for a moment. He 
approached the Judge and raised his head a little. 

“ That is a lie !” he repeated, and added, “ Mr. 
Wigan was not at my house that evening.” 

“ Well, that can be easily settled ; what was the 
name of your visitor then?” 

“ I do not see any reason for telling you.” 

“Yes, you have — for much depends on it that 
concerns your welfare,” the Judge interrupted him, 
speaking in a very stern and impressive tone. And 
as the young man kept silent and looked defiant, he 
added : “ Well, I will show you that I am kindly dis- 
posed towards you. I know who your visitor was !” 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


221 


“ Then, I wonder all the more, why you should 
ask me who it was !” said Dunsing contemptuously. 

“ It was the cashier, Slummer,” said the Judge. 

“ That is a lie !” cried the prisoner furiously. “ I 
never had anything to do with that blackguard.” 

“ And yet you sat with him a few days before in 
a restaurant for several hours,” said the Judge, in a 
dry, business-like tone, turning over some of the 
papers before him, as if he cared little for the reply 
that might come. “ You were trying to persuade 
him to accept two promissory notes amounting to 
thirty thousand marks, which have since been found 
among Mr. Wigan’s papers, indorsed by himself. 
And in return for this service you promised him a 
like amount, payable on the day after your marriage 
with the great banker’s daughter.” 

“ That is a lie ; a wretched calumny !” cried Dun- 
sing, who had turned once more deadly pale and 
whose eyes were again wandering aimlessly from 
face to face. 

“ It is the truth !” answered the Judge, looking 
very sternly at the young man. “ The former cashier 
of the house, Mr. Slummer, has but a few hours ago 
testified upon oath that this was a fact.” 

The unfortunate man suddenly showed a most 
fearful cliange of expression in his features. 

“ What !” he cried in perfect fury; that rascal, 
that wretch, has dared betray me?” 

A few moments sufficed to restore him to himself. 
With a short, bitter laugh, that even struck the 
experienced Judge as almost diabolical, he added: 


222 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ And upon the evidence of such a creature you 
cause me to be arrested, an honorable man of blame- 
less reputation ! 1 deny the accusation. The notes 

are no forgeries. Mr. Wigan himself handed them to 
me. I have told you nothing but the truth and the 
whole truth.” 

“Who has said anything of forgery ?” asked the 
Judge, fixing his eyes upon the prisoner’s face. 

“ Well, it must have been meant so, or the ex- 
cashier would certainly not have reported such a 
fact and let me be arrested and thrown into jail like 
a common robber or murderer !” he cried out furi- 
ously. “ But you will look at it in another light, I 
tell you, when you find out how this rascal of an 
ex-cashier appealed to me, through a former jail- 
bird, to help him to escape.” 

“But,” replied the Judge, calmly, “that is the 
very thing that makes us suspect you. How could 
that man wish you to help him, if you had never 
had anything to do with him, as you stated just 
now ?” 

The prisoner cast down his eyes. He felt he was 
caught in his own trap. 

But the Judge did not leave him time to invent a 
new falsehood, and said at once : 

“ You need not try to lead us astray. We are 
thoroughly well-informed. We have even received 
the official notification from the receivers of the 
bank, that the apparent indorsement of Mr. Wigan 
is a forgery.” 

“ That is a lie ! I repeat, it is a lie !” exclaimed 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


223 


the man, flaring up once more. “ It is, of course, 
easy enough to cast suspicion upon a man of honor, 
but I should like to see how you could prove that 
the name should not be Mr. Wigan’s writing, who 
was to be my father-in-law in so short a time.” 

“ And yet the proof is at hand,” interrupted the 
Judge, shaking his head. “You had really better 
not try our patience any longer.” He looked for 
a moment at the papers before him, and then asked : 
“ Since when have you known Mr. John Grover, 
and what do you know of him and his antece- 
dents ?” 

Dunsing looked at him in amazement. 

“ I hear that name now almost for the first time,” 
he replied, in a tone of honest conviction. “ If I 
am not mistaken, this is the man now in prison, 
because suspected of having murdered the banker, 
Mr. Wigan.” 

“ You have had nothing to do with this gentle- 
man ?” 

“ But, I pray you, what curious questions do you 
ask me, when I tell you, I do not know that man !” 

“ Then, oT course, you have not plotted with him 
against a third person ?” 

“ No !” came the curt and almost contemptuous 
answer. 

The Judge looked ill at ease and once more began 
to consult the piles of paper on his table. Then he 
explained a second time all his reasons for suspect- 
ing the prisoner of having forged the banker’s 
name. 


224 


THE TELL-TALE WATOH. 


The accused listened disdainfnlly and when he 
had ended, he broke out intp a loud, derisive laugh. 

“ I once more deny, most emphatically, having 
made any attempt at forgery," he exclaimed. “ But 
even if I should have forged them, who gave you 
the right to arrest me in this informal way ? As far 
as I know, the Code admits of such a proceeding 
only when the accused threatens to defeat Justice by 
flight, or when a real crime has been committed ?" 

And who tells us that this is not the case?" 

“ Pshaw ! I am not easily frightened. I am quite 
certain that to forge documents can only be punished 
with imprisonment up to two years." 

“You seem to have informed yourself well on the 
subject," said the Judge, smiling ironically but the 
indorsement, which is proven to be your work, is 
only one of the means leading to another result. 
You have not been arrestee} on the charge of 
forgery — you are accused of having murdered Mr. 
Wigan, the banker! What have you now to say?" 

The man looked petrified; with wide open, glassy 
eyes he stared at the official ; then he spasmodically 
covered his heart with his hand. Involuntarily he 
next drew nearer to the table, and said : 

. “ What ! They accuse me of murder ! of having 
killed Mr. Wigan, the banker!" His voice was 
trembling with excitement. “ Pshaw ! That is 
nonsense ! The greatest nonsense on earth ! 1 

verily believe, sir, you are trifling with me." 

“ 1 wish you would drop the delusion under 
which you seem to labor, that your lofty manner and 


the tell-tale watch. 


225 


phrases produce any effect upon me/' said the 
Judge, reprovingly. “ You must see, now, that it is 
of the greatest importance for you to establish in the 
minutest detail your whereabouts and your doings 
on that night between the ninth and the tenth of 
February of this year. You must have common- 
sense enough to see that our suspicions are, to say 
the least, very natural. After the cashier had told you 
how matters stood with the two notes, you must 
have been afraid of being mercilessly exposed by 
Mr. Wigan, or even of being handed over to a 
Criminal Court; for you could not possibly raise 
the amount required to provide for the two notes. 
On the other hand, you were ruined for life, if the 
banker took the step of which he had spoken to the 
cashier not only, but also to his wife. And you 
could not for a moment doubt that he would do it! 
What more natural, therefore, than to suspect that 
you, who alone knew of Mr. Wigan's presence in 
Seaton, should have lain in wait at his villa, and 
when he refused to save you from your fate, should 
have killed the obstinate man ?" 

“You make me out a monster!’’, exclaimed the 
man, trembling in all his limbs. “How can you 
dare presume— oh! this is too much! I dare not 
think of it ! it makes me mad !’’ 

Wringing his hands in despair, he stood in the 
center of the room. Then, with a groan, he sank 
into a chair and covered his face with his hands. 

The Judge looked at him with calm, searching 
eyes. 


226 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ Your conduct is not in your favor," he said after 
a pause. “ Will you now tell rne if you received a 
visitor on that evening*, and if this was the ex-cashier, 
Slummer ?" 

In utter confusion Dunsing* dropped his hands and 
looked at the Judge with dull, lifeless eyes. 

Yes, I must admit it," he answered reluctantly. 
“ It was that arch-scoundrel who came to see me!" 

The Judge seemed not to have heard the reply. 

“ And do you confess, also, that he informed you 
of Mr. Wigan’s intention to spend the evening* at 
Seaton ? ’ 

“ That, also, is true — but — however — " 

“ Never mind," the Judge cut the prisoner short. 
“ How long may Slummer have staid with you?" 

“ It may have been ten o’clock when he left me." 

“ And what did you do then?" 

The accused started suddenly ; a bright flush rose 
on his face, to be instantly followed by deadly pal- 
lor. “ I — I — " he stammered ; his eyes fell and he 
groaned deeply. 

“ What did you do then, Mr. Dunsing?" repeated 
the Judge, accenting his words sharply. 

The accused passed his hand through his dishev- 
elled hair. 

“I — I — ’’ he stammered again. “ What can I have 
done?" he then added, with somewhat firmer voice. 
“ I told you I felt unwell. I went to bed.'" 

“ No ! You did not !" the Judge said, decidedly. 
“ Twenty minutes after your visitor had left you 
you, also, went out of the precinct of your factory." 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


227 


“ That is a lie !” cried Dunsing again, but his voice 
sounded hoarse and veiled. He intended to rise 
from his chair, but he sank back again, unable to 
do so. 

“No, sir, it is the truth .’“replied the Judge again, 
pleasuring him with piercing eyes. “ You left the 
inclosure and went down Louis Street till you came 
to Neander Street, and then went past Mr. Wigan’s 
property, as far as the next villa. Then you turned 
and walked several times restlessly up and down in 
Neander Street. Once, you even crossed the street 
and came back again. This was close by the new 
building, and happened, probably, when you fol- 
lowed the track of the man who was afterwards 
murdered, and when you began that ominous con- 
versation that was to terminate in such a dreadful 
deed.” 

“ No ! there you are mistaken. I only wanted to 
light my cigar; the wind was high, the rain fell in 
big drops and I had to seek shelter behind the fence.” 

“ Then you confess having been in Neander Street 
at that hour?” 

Half-suppressed groans once more rose from Dun- 
sing’s lips, which had gradually turned as white as 
chalk, as he felt how he had been caught. In vain 
he tried to collect his thoughts; he was trembling 
all over. 

“ Well, 1 will admit. Judge, 1 left my house after 
the cashier had gone. I had important matters to 
settle with my father-in-law, and I hoped to catch 
him as he came out of his villa on his way home.” 


228 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ You might have done that more easily, it seems 
to me. Why could you not simply go to his villa?” 

“ I imagined he must have appointed a meeting 
with some important personage — or he would not 
have come out at night to an unheated country 
house.” 

“ Well, at all events, the subject of your conversa- 
tion must have been a very exceptionally important : 
affair. Perhaps you meant to ask Mr. Wigan to I 
pardon you and to spare you ; you perhaps wished 
to represent to him that to publish your disgrace 
would be equivalent to absolute ruin in business and 
in society. This, no doubt, was what made you so 
restless ; you were in a state of great excitement. But 
how came it about that you were smoking ? At such 
moments we are not apt to think of cigars — I am 
sure you were engaged in very different thoughts.” 

“ I have admitted that I was excited — what more 
can I say ? But the terrible cold began to invade my * 
system ; in spite of my active walking up and down, 
my limbs stiffened, I became sleepy, and to overcome 
this drowsiness, 1 lit a cigar. This was my only 
purpose for crossing the street and seeking a shel- 
tered place near the new structure. Great God ! 
How could I anticipate that so shortly afterwards 
such a fearful calamity would be enacted at that 
very place ?” ,, 

“ Then you spoke with Mr. Wigan?” asked the 
judge. 

“No! No!” cried the young factory-owner. 

“ Hour after hour passed away, and he never came 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


229 


out of his house, although 1 could distinctly see 
through the blinds that there was still light in the 
house. At last 1 could no longer struggle with the 
drowsiness that was gradually overcoming me. I 
turned back, having accomplished nothing. Great 
God ! If I had dreamed of what was to happen so 
soon after, and that I should be accused of such a 
horrible crime, 1 would have waited there till morn- 
ing!” 

“That is a very good excuse, but I am afraid the 
jury will attach little weight to it,” said the Judge, 
with his ironical smile. “You have admitted too 
much to stop half way. It would be vastly better 
for you to mention frankly and fully what you had 
to do with Mr. Wigan, the banker, and what you 
did with him.” 

But Richard Dunsing shook his head. 

“ I have allowed myself to be caught, and have 
said things which I should never have mentioned to 
any human being. I admit appearances are against 
me ; but that is all. I have had no meeting with 
Mr. Wigan on that evening. That is the truth ; I 
swear it by God.” 

The Judge saw that his prisoner had made up his 
mind to say no more, and his obstinacy seemed to 
be very determined. He was, therefore, content 
with the result of this first examination, and sent 
Dunsing back to his cell. 

Then, after a short interval, he sent for Molitor 
and when the young man came, he told him all that 
had happened between him and Dunsing. 


230 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ We are in an embarrassing position,” he con- 
cluded, being evidently put out. “ Here we are 
with two men in prison, both of whom we charge 
with the murder of Mr. Wigan. Between us, be it 
said, 1 would be ready to swear that both are guilty, 
although 1 see very clearly that they cannot have 
acted in concert.” 

“I cannot yet come to any conclusion,” replied 
the Commissary. “ It is extremely probable that 
Dunsing has committed the crime, and on the other 
hand, for the last few weeks, my doubts of the 
American’s guilt have increased from day to day. 
John Grover does not look to me as if he were made 
of the material of which hardened criminals are 
made. And now that he turns out to be the banker’s 
own brother — ” 

Ah ! Don’t speak of that notion again !” broke 
in Judge Feilen impatiently. “ I wish John Grover 
had never set his foot on our soil ! Which of the 
two is the murderer, I ask you ?” 

“Perhaps neither of them,” was the prompt reply. 
“ I must confess I am at my wits end. All our 
investigations have been fruitless, and I come to 
think that only a chance, perhaps a trifling, little 
accident, can throw some light upon this compli- 
cated affair.” 

“ But we must get light,” said the Judge, rising 
and walking up and down in the narrow room. Then 
he turned to his young friend once more and said : 
“ Be kind enough to find out, if there can ever have 
been any link between Dunsing and this American? 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


231 


I do not think it likely, but it may be so after all. 
In the next place we shall have to find out what the 
relations are between Dunsing and the ex-cashier ; 
those two men look to me like a couple of consum- 
mate scamps.” 

“ But what about the American ?” asked Molitor. 
“ His imprisonment has made a great sensation. I 
am told the United States Minister has sent a new 
note to the President of the High Court, complain- 
ing bitterly.” 

“ I shall give the matter up as far as it belongs to 
my tribunal. The Attorney-General may now take 
it up and find out which of the two prisoners has 
committed the murder. The strongest evidence is 
before us, that one of the two is a murderer — but 
which ? It may happen to us after all that for want 
of convicting proof we let the real criminal escape !” 

He said Good-bye to the Commissary in a less 
cordial manner than usual, turned to his papers, 
and was soon again deeply absorbed in the provok- 
ing case. 


CHAPTER XV. 

Whit-Sunday had come and all nature clothed it- 
self in green once more. Forest and bush displa3"ed 
the richest and freshest colors that fall to their share 
at this season, and the birds were delightedly sing- 


232 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


ing their love-songs and the praise of their Maker. 
The streets of the great city were filled with gay, 
happy people, who enjoyed being out in the fresh, 
open air, basking in the bright sunlight and drink- 
ing in with joy the pure, bracing air. Merry crowds 
of children filled the City Parks with their songs 
and their cries ; all the benches under the broad- 
branching linden-trees were closely packed with 
people, and passers-by would look up to open win- 
dows and greet friends, whom they had not seen for 
many months. 

In the modest flat, which the banker’s widow and 
her daughter occupied, sadness and anxiety prevailed, 
and little was seen of sunlight, flower-perfumes and 
birds’ merry singing. Like a thief in the night, 
sickness had come to try the poor mother’s patience 
in a new form. The delicate lady, who had for 
twenty vears been surrounded by luxury, and en- 
joyed every tender care and attention that love and 
gratitude can think of, now of a sudden lost her 
strength, and soon suffered from utter prostration. 
With the best will, she could no longer do any work 
that might have helped them in paying their way. 
The embroideries, also, at which the daughter was 
indefatigably at work from the earliest morning light 
till late at night, were but poorly paid, while the 
physician and the druggist sent in bill after bill. 
The two women tried their best to practice the most 
minute economy, but with all their efforts they were 
continually in arrears. Molitor had, of course, tried 
to offer his services in the most delicate manner, but 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


233 


Mrs. Wigan had met the first hint in so very cold 
and haughty a manner, that he would have felt 
deeply wounded, if she had not, the next moment, 
seized his hand and, pressing it cordially, said : 

“ You are a dear, kind-hearted man — but let us^ 
not mention that again. We have all we need — 
have we not, my child ? And God will help us, I 
am sure !” 

It was mainly the renewed cheerfulness of her 
daughter which supported Mrs. Wigan. Almost 
all day long she was compelled to lie on her couch, 
for she had long since lost the strength to sit up. 
Erna was sitting close by her, indefatigably at work, 
and yet finding time to amuse her mother with her 
constant prattle. To be sure, the tears would often 
come to the older lady’s eyes when she thought 
’of the contrast between former days and now : she, 
who had been the Queen at balls and entertain- 
ments, now compelled to work for her daily bread ! 

Past ! Past!” she would sigh, and the tears would 
overflow, streaming down the poor, lean cheeks. 

But when this happened, the young girl would 
throw down her work, and embracing the patient’s 
neck with both arms, and kissing her face again and 
again, she would say : 

“ No tears. Mamma, no tears 1 I cannot see them ! 
You see how happy I am, and if things sometimes 
look black, we know God is on high and never for- 
gets those who trust in him! Things will mend, I 
am confident. And then your cheeks will turn red 
again, your eyes will shine brightly as of old, and 


234 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


we will take such charming walks! Yes, walks, 
mamma ! You see so much more when you are 
afoot ; in the carriage you only catch a glimpse of 
everything and it is gone ; but on foot, oh ! you see 
everything ! When you are well again, we shall 
stroll about, examine every shrub and every flower. 
Yes, Mamma, and then we shall look forward to a 
fairer future !” 

The poor sufferer smiled feebly; she could not 
answer : the future was still dark and dismal before 
her mind’s eye. But, after a pause, she drew Erna’s 
head to her breast and whispered : 

“ My dear, sweet Erna ! Yes, I will pray to God 
that He give me my health back ! I cannot bear 
the thought, darling, of parting with you, before I 
know that your future is secured. That is my 
one great prayer !” 

The daughter blushed suddenly and turned her 
head aside. This changed the current of the mother’s 
thoughts also, and threatening her child with her 
forefinger, she added, smiling : 

“Yes, yes, I know I Mrs. Tibbeck has betrayed 
you. This great lady lets herself be escorted home, 
when she returns from her professional out-goings 1 
They tell me of a handsome, gentlemanly young 
man, who wears the uniform of a Commissary of the 
Police 1” 

“ Oh, Mamma, you must not talk so ! I never think 
of such things,” replied the daughter, hiding her 
face in her mother’s bosom. “ I am much too old 
for that, and too serious I"’ 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


235 


“ At nineteen !” replied the mother, laughing aloud. 
“ You dear little child." 

‘‘Oh, you do not know, Mamma, how old a 
woman feels herself to be when she has had such 
bitter experiences," answered Erna, much pleased 
in having caused her mother to laugh heartily and 
to forget the present for a few moments. 

But such happy moments became rarer and rarer 
in the modest little house. The poor mother was 
fading away visibly from day to day ; the stern, 
resolute expression, that had formerly dwelt in her 
features, was disappearing, and gave way to sweet 
resignation and profound peace. Erna’s rosy cheeks, 
too, paled more and more ; but she made noble efforts 
to keep her mother in ignorance of all that caused 
her such anxiety. It was mutual heroism that these 
two ladies displayed when they were together; 
but no sooner did they find themselves alone, than 
they gave free course to their tears, seeking relief 
for their over-burdened hearts. 

After Whit-Sunday a great misfortune befell Erna. 
The bad times — as people in trade and in business 
called it — set in, and with great regret the merchant, 
for whom she had been doing her embroidery work, 
told her that for the next three months he would not 
be able to sell any more of her work. When he saw 
the poor girl’s face turn ghastly pale at this blow, 
he added kindly that she might return in Fall, when 
times, he hoped, would be better again. He even 
promised to help her first of all in her line, since he 
had been specially pleased with her embroideries. 


236 


THE TELL-TALE WATOH. 


But this praise and this promise for the future 
were of little avail for the poor girl. She had 
earned such a pittance only by her work, that it 
barely sufficed to pay their daily bread ; to lay up, 
even a trifle, had been out of her power. Her 
mother’s sickness required too much and, often as 
the old lady remonstrated, Erna would have suffered 
hunger rather than leave one of the doctor’s pre- 
scriptions unattended to. 

Her next step was to try other shops, where such 
work as she made was for sale ; but all was in vain. 
The state of the market was unusually depressed 
and everywhere her applications were rejected, 
courteously, but absolutely. Yes, they told her, in 
Autumn there would be demand again for such 
work, but now, for the summer-season, when every- 
body went out of town, there was no market for such 
wares. Days and days were spent in this unsuccess- 
ful endeavor to find employment, and night after 
night poor Erna returned, disappointed and almost 
broken-hearted. 

Once she had met Molitor and accepted his offer 
to see her home, whereupon the two ladies had asked 
him to stay and take tea with them. Full of warm- 
est sympathy, he had tried to ascertain how they 
managed to live, but the young girl was too proud, 
and she would rather have faced death than to let 
him know what she suffered. 

And now began for the poor ladies the most try- 
ing period of their lives, whilst outside all was sun- 
shine and joyousness. Fortunately, their rent was 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


237 


prepaid for three months, so that Mrs. Tibbeck did 
not suffer. But a few days later, the daily bread 
began literally to fail them ; they had no money to 
buy anything, and to buy on credit they dared not. 
With ineffable grief the mother saw how her child 
denied herself even the necessary things to provide 
all that she wanted. All their little jewels and orna- 
ments had long since been sold ; only the antique 
and probably very costly medallion, the last relic of 
her dearly beloved Johannes, the mother still wore 
t)n her heart. If in old times anybody had hinted 
at the possibility of her ever disposing of this prec- 
ious memorial, she would have replied : “ Rather 
death than that !” 

At last the crisis came. One day, when Erna 
h^d once more gone out to see if she could not 
secure some kind of work, Eowever hard it might 
be, the mother formed a sudden resolve that wa‘s 
to affect the lives of all of them in the most surpris- 
ing manner. She sent for her landlady, Mrs. Tib- 
beck, who came from the kitchen, where she had 
been at work, with a thousand apologies for her 
appearance. After exchanging their compliments, 
the poor widow began : 

“ I would like to ask you a very great favor, dear 
Mrs. Tibbeck, but you must promise me to keep 
it a profound secret, even from my daughter.” 

Great curiosity appeared instantly on the face of 
the landlady. 

Well, and what can it be?” she asked, full of 


238 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


expectation. “ Surely you do not want to borrow 
money of me, for I have not any 

A burning blush covered the poor invalid’s pale 
face at this rude speech, and a low groan escaped 
from her lips. 

What I have to ask, is unfortunately connected 
with money, but not that way,” she said, alter a 
pause, uncertain whether she should trust this 
woman or not. “ You know, of course, how our 
means have, of late, been short of our wants. I am 
a very sick invalid’, ready to die every moment, 
and — ” 

“ No, no ! Don’t say that, dear Mrs. Wigan,” 
broke in the visitor. “ You will see how quickly 
you will recover — you are still so young ! I thought 
of you only the other day — how unfit this close, 
damp dwelling is for you. I was out in the country 
at my brother-in-law’s, in Windenow ; he has the 
coziest little house in the heart of a lonely pine-forest. 
There you ought to live — that would do good to 
your poor lungs.” 

A low groan escaped the sad sufferer, and a 
dreamy smile played for a while around her pale 
lips as she conjured up the alluring picture. 

“ Yes, indeed ; that would do me good !” she 
repeated at last. Sunshine and the cool, fresh air 
of the forest, bright flowers in the meadows and the 
merry song of little birds high up in the branches 
— and then the playful, tiny springs, and shy, but 
curious deer coming cautiously forth to look at the 
stranger — ah ! Great God ! I can feel it now, and 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


239 


merely to think of it gives me rest and peace at 
once." She paused, exhausted, a few minutes and 
then continued : “ But we must remain in real life. 
What is the use of all these fancies, all these dreams 
of ours, when the stern reality forbids the very idea of 
such enjoyment. But you see," she added, approach- 
ing her lips close to the listener’s ears, so as to be 
able to speak with less effort : “You see, Erna can 
no longer find a sale for her work, and I am forced 
to see, with truly bleeding heart, that she is getting 
thinner and thinner every day." 

“ Yes, the poor dear child," chimed in Mrs. Tib- 
beck. “ 1 have told my daughter, often enough, what 
good luck she had, even in her early youth, when she 
was taught to work and to know how to support 
herself. Such a poor, noble lady, lives and lives, and 
when misery comes she knows nothing, and cannot 
help herself, much less others." 

Mrs. Wigan suffered intensely at such reproach, 
and again it took her several minutes before she 
gathered courage to present her petition. 

“ Help must be found," she said, “not for myself, 
but for the poor child. What I wish you to do, dear 
Mrs. Tibbeck, is to help me in selling an object of 
great value." 

“ Oh ! if that is all," came the prompt reply, “ that 
I am quite used to do. You see, dear Mrs. Wigan, 
in winter my husband is not unfrequently out of 
work, and thus I go to the pawnbroker’s ; and so it 
is in summer, too, when I have regularly to carry 
the Sunday clothes on Monday morning to be 


240 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


pledged till I redeem them again on Saturday. You 
need not be ashamed to be seen there. Why, great 
people come there in their stylish carriages, and beg 
the man who values their fine things to add a few 
marks more, as if they were as poor as we are.” 

“ Yes, 1 know, my dear friend; but we must settle 
our little business first, before Erna comes home ; 
she must not know a word about it. Besides, I do 
not speak of pawning — when would I ever be in a 
position to redeem any valuables? I want to sell 
and to see to it that I do not lose too much in selling 
a very valuable article.” 

“ And what is it ? Is it real gold — or, perhaps, dia- 
monds?” Mrs. Tibbeck asked with eager curiosity. 

“ Both,” sighed the poor lady, sighing deeply. 
“ I part with it most reluctantly ; but my child’s 
health, perhaps even her life, is at stake.” 

With these words she drew the medallion from 
under her dress, where it had rested so many years, 
looked at it awhile with the bitter tears flowing 
down her cheeks, and loosening the heavy gold 
chain which held it, she handed it to her visitor. 

“ You will be sure,” she added, “ to go early in 
the morning, before Erna is about? Go to the best 
jeweler you know, make him give you the largest 
sum of money he is willing to pay, and give it to me 
when my daughter is not present.” 

The woman nodded eagerly with her head, and 
gazed at the medallion as the widow handed it to 
her. 

“ But what is this !” she exclaimed suddenly, when 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


241 


she had examined it all around. “ Why, this is 
funny !” 

“ What ? What do you mean, Mrs. Tibbeck ?” 

The landlady shook her head wondering ; then 
she went to the window the better to examine the 
jewel, and stammered in broken accents : 

“But, no! This is too strange! I never in my 
life saw such a resemblance !” 

“What do you mean — pray tell me ?” asked the 
poor lady. 

“Well, that medallion there!” was the answer. 
“ Upon my soul, it is exactly the same thing as the 
big watch which my husband has inherited from 
his uncle on the mother’s side.” 

“ That cannot very well be,” replied Mrs. Wigan, 
shaking her head. “ This medallion is over a hun- 
dred years old, of very peculiar, artistic interest,* 
and of great value. I can hardly imagine, dear 
Mrs. Tibbeck, that your husband’s uncle should 
have been in a position to leave him such a watch. 
To be sure, there was one such watch which most 
closely resembled this medallion, since the same 
master’s hand had produced both of them ; but — ” 

“ No ! no ! I am right !” contradicted the land- 
lady. “Just wait a moment, and I’ll convince 
you.” 

In a few minutes she returned with a cunning 
smile on her face, and holding something carefully 
concealed under her apron. Cautiously she crept 
up to the sick lady’s bed, and whispered : 

“ You see, Madame, you must know my husband 


242 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


is a very peculiar man. I&e can hear of my hav- 
ing a quarter of a mark, he*s sure to get hold of it 
in some way ; then he puts it into his pocket and keeps 
it there, where it does not do me any good, nor any 
other human being. What can I do? I must 
retaliate. Often, in the depth of the night, 1 get up 
and search his pockets — and I almost always find 
something there. Now, he did precisely so with 
his uncle’s inheritance. He never told me a word 
about it, that he inherited such a beautiful gold 
watch from his uncle. But we women know how 
to find out our husband’s secrets ; and thus one 
night I got up and searched every pocket of his, 
and lo and behold ! here it was, the most beautiful 
gold watch I ever saw in my life. And not only 
that, but in a secret compartment of an old cup- 
board which he bought and skillfully repaired, I 
found he kept a red morocco pocket-book — no 
doubt another part of his uncle’s inheritance. That 
is what made me start so when I saw your medal- 
lion ; it is as like the gold watch with the heavy 
gold chain, as one egg is like another.’* 

The poor widow had received a violent shock. 
All of a sudden a sharp pain cut through every part 
of her body, she half rose from her couch and gazed 
with intense amazement at her landlady. 

“What did you say, Mrs. Tibbeck ? A red 
morocco pocket-book ? A gold watch with a heavy 
gold chaifi ? Great God ! And how did your hus- 
band fall heir to such an unexpected inheritance ?” 

“Let me think a moment,” replied the good 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


243 


women, still carefully concealing the valuable objects 
under her' apron. “ Yes, to be sure I remember, it 
was the tenth of February.” 

“And the watch !” exclaimed Mrs. Wigan, in such 
painful excitement that she could hardly maintain 
herself upright on her lounge, “ that watch — you 
have — in yOur hands?” 

“ Yes, indeed ! Just look at it ! Here it is ! No, 
did you ever see two things so much alike ?” she 
replied, and produced the desired object. 

The poor suffering lady no sooner cast a look 
upon the very large, but most artistically engraven 
time-piece, the outside of which bore a cooing pair 
of turtle-doves, then she uttered a low cry and sank 
back into her cushions, utterly exhausted. 

“ But what is the matter with you, dear Mrs. 
Wigan?” cried the landlady, still unsuspecting and 
eagerly trying to help the fainting lady. 

“ Never mind me ! Never mind !” whispered the 
poor sufferer, trying again and again to raise her- 
self, so as to sit up. “ And this watch,” she stam- 
mered at last, “ this watch, you say, your husband 
has inherited ?” 

“Well, of course! His uncle', on the mother’s 
side, as I told you before.” 

“ That is not true !” suddenly cried Mrs. Wigan, 
her eyes flaming up with unexpected vigor. “ That 
is not true 1 There is not, 1 tell you, any second 
watch in this world, like this! This watch was the 
property of my poor husband, and it was stolen 


m 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


from him in the night from the ninth to the tenth of 
February !” 

The effect of these words on Mrs. Tibbeck was 
fearful. The poor woman stood for a few moments 
as if struck by lightning, with open mouth and star- 
ing eyes. Then life returned, as it were, and she 
clapped her hands as in despair, while she cried 
out : 

“ But, great God ! How can you think such a 
thing?” Then, as if doubtful whether to cry or to 
quarrel; “ We are honest people ! We do not do 
such things ! Steal a watch ! How can you think 
of it, Madame! This watch ! This watch ! No, I tell 
you, we are no thieves ! How dare you say such 
a thing?” 

“ Mrs. Tibbeck, come close up to me,” stammered 
the poor sufferer. “ Convince’ yourself ! There 
can be no doubt ! Just look!” 

She pressed a spring and the back of the watch 
opened instantly. 

“Now read!” she added, trembling with excite- 
ment and pointing at a cunninglyffnterwoven mono- 
gram. 

“Andreas Wigan!” read the laSidlady, turning 
deadly pale. “ Andreas Wigan !” she repeated me- 
chanically, and stared with wide open eyes at the 
poor woman in her grief. “ Great God !” she cried. 
“ What can this mean ! What can it t)e !” 

For some minutes a painful stillness reigned in 
the room. 

“ But my husband certainly inherited this watch 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


245 


from his uncle on the mother’s side, and — ” Mrs. 
Tibbeck began once more. 

“ You said something of a red pocket-book?” said 
Mrs. Wigan. 

“ For God’s sake, what do you mean ?” 

Do you not know that my husband was robbed 
of such a one, when he was murdered ?” 

“No! no! I cannot have said any such thing!” 
cried the landlady fiercely, hardly knowing in her 
ineffable distress what she was saying. “ It was not 
exactly a pocket-book, such as gentleman generally 
have in their pockets. There was no money in this 
— nothing-— only a few papers — of no value at all !” 

“ The money may have been taken out before. 
Please let me see that pocket-book!” said Mrs. 
Wigan, imploringly, and seemed almost to have for- 
gotten her great suffering, while a youthful, living 
fire once more shone in her eyes. 

“ No ! But who could have thought !” suddenly 
cried Mrs. Tibbeck, sobbing fiercely and carrying 
her apron to her eyes. “There must be some mis- 
take about it ! My husband is innocent ! He does 
not do such things ! Oh, Great God ! If I had but 
kept silence ! Why must 1 need talk of what con- 
cerned nobody !” 

She paused, utterly exhausted by her excitement 
and her fears. Unable to endure it all, she sank into 
a chair, and concealing her face with both hands, 
she gave free course to her tears. 

Mrs. Wigan, also, was leaning back in her cushions, 
utterly exhausted and overcome by fearful excite- 


246 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


ment. This revelation, at the brink of extreme 
suffering, which suddenly opened a new view and 
held out a new hope of fathoming the mystery of 
the murder, was too much for her — she felt helpless 
as a mere infant. What was to be done? She 
dared not pursue the thoughts which so suddenly 
crowded her mind. How could this man have got- 
ten possession of these two precious and unmistak- 
able objects? He must be the murderer! And if 
so, what was to become of his family? They had 
ever been most kind to them both, mother and 
daughter!- Lina, the hearty, fair-faced maid with the 
true blue eyes, was on the point of being married ; 
her lover was a young man of sterling character, 
proud of his good name — how would he receive the 
news? Such thoughts filled the poor lady’s mind 
in wild confusion, and her heart nearly broke as 
she thought of the terrible effects of such a discov- 
ery. But, on the other side, was there not the 
happiness of her own child at stake, the restoration 
of her husband’s honest name, and the clearing up 
of a fearful mystery ? Could she hesitate? Was it 
not her duty at once to summon Commissary Moli- 
tor, and to inform him of what accident had so 
strangely brought to her knowledge. 

Suddenly the landlady jumped up ; anger seemed 
to have gotten the better of the poor woman. 

“ There ! I hear my husband’s steps. He is com- 
ing home from his work. He shall tell you that we 
are plain but honest people,” she cried in a furious 
voice. “ Of course, it is barely possible that your hus- 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


247 


band had also such a watch, but this my husband 
has inherited from his uncle on the mother’s side. 
Thus — ” Here she suddenly paused, overcome by a 
sudden thought. “ But, to be sure, he was never to 
know that I had found out his secret! But never 
mind ! Where such an insult has been cast upon us 
— let him scold me — I sha’n’t mind it.” She took the 
watch and hastened out. 

In the meantime daylight had waned and the 
room was nearly dark. Through the open window 
the balmy spring air flowed in, and from the street 
resounded merry laughter and cheerful sounds. 
Countless numbers of children of both sexes were 
playing their games, and filled the air with their 
happy cries and songs. But suddenly loud, over- 
whelming cries of distress were heard, and Mrs. 
Wigan, trembling, listened. She heard distinctly 
the hoarse, passionate voice of the joiner and then 
the loud sobs and groans of his wife. This continued 
perhaps ten minutes. Then a tremendous noise 
broke in, doors were banged and closed with vio- 
lence, and heavy, weighty steps of a man were 
heard descending the stairs. 

Immediately after this the door of Mrs. Wigan’s 
room was torn open, and with loud cries and pas- 
sionate sobs, poor Mrs. Tibbeck rushed in, threw 
herself on her knees at the poor lady’s lounge, and 
cried : 

“ Oh, God I oh, God I My husband! My husband ! 
Who could have thought it? Oh, God ! Dear Mrs. 
Wigan ! My husband ! My own husband !” 


248 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


The poor, exhausted lady could offer no reply. 
She looked with dread, not unmixed with horror, 
at the poor distracted woman, who, like people in her 
station, knew not how to bridle her passions, and 
gave unbounded license to her wrath and her despair. 
This continued a long time — how long, the poor 
sick mother never knew; she was too entirely over- 
come by the sudden excitement, the noise and the 
turmoil, and the apprehension of what would be the 
next step in the solution of this great, mysterious 
crime, that had deprived her, at one blow, of all her 
happiness in life. 

It was quite dark when Erna at last rushed breath- 
less into the room, and knelt down at her mother’s 
side. The delighted mother passed her hand caress- 
ingly over the smooth, waving masses of hair, and 
exclaimed : 

“Is it you at last, Erna? At last! You have 
been out so much later than usual. God be thanked 
that I have you near me again. You little know 
how much I miss you when you are away so long a 
time.” 

“ Oh, Mamma, I am so happy I” 

The poor mother felt in the darkness how her 
cheeks were glowing with intense excitement ; she 
seized her hand and felt how the blood coursed 
through the veins at a very unusual rate. “ Happy, 
you say, my child ! How is that? Tell me!” Her 
thoughts were so far away at this moment from 
her daughter’s welfare, that she hardly knew what 
she was saying, and yet she wondered what could 


TBE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


249 


have made her pale, shrinking Erna, all at once so 
happy. 

“ So happy !” exclaimed Erna, in exuberance of 
joy. “But, dearest Mamma, have you really never 
guessed anything — did you really know nothing till 
to-day ?” 

Mrs. Wigan tried to make her thoughts forsake 
the time of the watch and the robbery, and thus she 
asked, quite uncertain : 

“ Know nothing! What do you mean, child?” 

“ That he loves me ! Oh 1 he is so good and dear. 
Look, Mamma, look at the past as gone, like a bad 
dream. I think I shall make him happy, as his wife. 
And you, dearest Mamma, you will live with us, and 
we will nurse you and coddle you till you are quite 
well and strong again.” 

Now Mrs. Wigan could not help smiling. 

“ You little whirlwind you, of whom are you 
speaking ? What is this revelation you are making ? 
Who is this He ? I did not know you knew any- 
body ? I hope it is not — ” 

“ Oh, Mamma dear, I am so happy I” cried Erna, 
rising from her knees and embracing with almost 
violent heartiness the beloved mother’s neck. “ Just 
think! he has all this time escorted me home every 
evening, and always talked so nicely and sweetly, 
but I never, never thought of such a thing. Great 
God ! I always thought I was too old to be noticed 
in that way. But now, as I walked by his side, 1 
often thought : What a fine, imposing-looking man 
he is — how happy the woman who one of these days 


250 


THE TELL-TALE WATOH. 


will walk through life by his side, well sheltered and 
protected ! And to think ! this evening as he was 
going to say good-bye, he suddenly seized both my 
hands and said, looking me straight in the eyes: 
‘ Erna, dear Erna, I did not mean to speak, but 1 can 
keep it a secret no longer : will you be my wife, my 
true helpmate?’ And then. Mamma, I do not know 
this moment how I ever gathered courage to say 
‘ Yes,’ but I did it.” 

Oh, God ! Do you really mean Mr. Molitor?” 
stammered the mother in her excitement. 

“ Of course ! Did I not tell you it was Rolf ?” the 
girl stammered, bashfully hiding her face in her 
mother’s bosom. 

“Praise be to God!” exclaimed Mrs. Wigan. 
“ Thou sendest trials, but thou also sendest blessings. 
Now 1 am happy ! Now 1 know my child is safe, 
and now do Thou unto me as it is Thy pleasure !” 

The young girl clung closely to her mother’s 
heart and, overwhelmed by happiness and rejoicing, 
she began to sob violently. 

Long they were sitting thus, hand resting in hand, 
with darkness all around them, shedding happy tears, 
till suddenly renewed cries and sobs reminded the 
happy widow of less happy people. Erna also heard 
the loud plaints, and asked : 

“ Oh, Mamma, I’ll light the lamp. What can have 
happened here ?” ^ 

“ Much has happened here, my child,” answered 
the mother in a low, subdued manner. 

The young girl had quickly run to the matchbox 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


251 


and was now lighting a lamp. Then, when the cosy 
light fell upon her mother’s anxious face, she 
started, gazed at the care-worn features, and cried : 

“ But dearest Mamma, how you look! What is 
the matter with you ? Are you not glad at what 
I have told you ? Do you sympathize so little 
with your happy child ?” 

“ No, no, my sweet, dear daughter — you know 
you could not have made me happier. But such 
marvelous things have happened here in your 
absence — it really begins to look as if the succession 
of trials, to which we were looking forward, might 
at last be broken and brought to an end. But, 
unfortunately, we cannot be made happy, it seems, 
without making others very, very unhappy. And 
this is what makes me so unspeakably unhappy, that 
we should only be freed from sorrow and suffering 
by seeing the burden placed upon others.” 

“ But what do you mean, dearest Mamma? You 
speak in riddles. I cannot understand you.” 

The poor widow shook her head. “ Nothing has 
happened that could interfere with you or your 
happiness 1” she replied. “ Do not ask me now ! 
Enjoy your happiness ! May God bless you 1” 

Once more she seized the head of her daughter 
with both hands, and drawing her close to her 
heart, she pressed a long, hot kiss upon the pure 
virgin brow. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Rolf Molitor was just going to leave his office 
and to return home, when the policeman on duty 
entered and reported that the mechanic Tibbeck 
was there, and wished anxiously to see the Com- 
missary. The latter was surprised, but after trying 
to read the man's face, he ordered his visitor in at 
once. 

So many mysteries had gradually come to sur- 
round this remarkable murder case, and it had 
always been in connection with this strange man, 
Tibbeck, that new revelations had come to him, 
that the young officer could not refrain from advanc- 
ing to meet him, and from saying at once : 

“ But, man, what's up ? What on earth is the 
matter now ?" 

Then, seeing the man’s exhausted state, he seized 
him by the shoulders and almost by main force 
compelled him to sit down. 

For several minutes the man sat still and immov- 
able ; only his eyes were wandering restlessly over 
the room. His breath came in broken, unintelligible 
sounds ; his lips were wide open, and, when at last 
[252] 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


253 


he began to speak, it was in hoarse, barely audible 
accents. 

“Ah, Mr. Molitor, I must, 1 must confess, I am 
an arch-bad man ! But what they accuse me of is 
not true. I did not commit murder ! I am not so 
bad as that!’’ 

Molitor looked at the man and was more and more 
puzzled by his conduct. For a moment he thought 
Tibbeck might be drunk, but a glance at his implor- 
ing eye removed that suspicion. 

“Can the man have lost his mind — can he be 
insane ?” he next asked himself. 

Almost unconscious of what he was doing, he 
approached his strange visitor, seized him by the 
shoulders, and said, encouraging him : 

“ Come, out with it, my man 1 What is it ? What 
nonsense are 3 ^ou talking of — of murder ?’’ 

“ No, no ! ” cried the wretched creature. “ No ! 
There is not a word of truth in that, as sure as the 
Almighty will be merciful- to me in my last hour! 
I cannot kill a fly — much less a human being ! Oh, 
me ! Oh, me !” 

“ Who accuses you of such a crime ? Why don’t 
you speak? Explain the matter !” 

“ Alas !” said the joiner, at last stammering ; “ it is 
all about that red morocco pocket-book — and that 
watch !’’ 

“ Man !” exclaimed the Commissary once more, 
and seizing the visitor’s arm with an iron grasp, 
forced him to look into his face. “ What are you 
talking ? What about a watch ?” 


254 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ The banker’s watch — Mr. Wigan’s watch, whose 
wife and daughter are living in my house. Oh, 
what a cursed luck ! I knew it would not end well ! 
Who would have dreamed that of all women on earth 
his widow had to be the one to rent rooms of me ! 
Without that, all would have gone well. But now — ” 

“By Heaven, man, you talk like an old washer- 
woman !” cried Molitor, really angry and stamping 
on the floor. 

This had the desired effect. Tibbeck cast an anx- 
ious look at the officer. 

“ Speak out, like a sensible man,” said Molitor, 
crossing his arms over his breast and looking at the 
excited man with stern but not hostile eyes. “ If I 
understand you, 3 ^ou are accused of being an accom- 
plice in Mr. Wigan’s murder?” 

“ By no means ! For God’s sake, Mr. Commis- 
sary, don’t say that I” The man groaned and his 
pale lips trembled so that he could hardly speak. 
“ I cannot harm a fly, I told you, much less a human 
being ! But that watch and that chain !” 

“ Well, and what of those two things ? Out with 
it!” 

“Alas! You do not know, Mr. Molitor, all that 
has happened to-day at my house. 1 wish I had 
thrown myself into the water. Ah ! the women, 
the women, can they never hold their tongues ! 
That’s the way it always begins : first, they inspect 
my trouser’s pockets, and then, through their shame- 
less curiosit}^ 1 am sent first to jail and then to 
the—” 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


255 


He did not utter the word “ Penitentiary ” that 
was on his tongue, but he once more turned pale 
and his eyes began again to wander restlessly all 
around the room. 

“ Well, if any one can understand what you mean, 
I cannot !” exclaimed Molitor, impatiently. “ The 
best you can do is to stay here over night, and to- 
morrow morning, early, you can tell the Judge the 
whole story. I have not time to listen to your 
nonsense/’ 

These energetically uttered words had the desired 
effect. 

“ For God’s sake,” cried the poor, helpless 
man, “don’t do that! The Judge is not half as 
good to me as you are. You see, I know you and 
I have confidence in you. You have also been good 
to my wife, and my daughter Lina is fond of you. 
My wife told me I must go straight to you and tell 
you the whole story, and you would advise me, she 
said, for everybody could read in my face that 
I was not a man to commit murder.” 

“ Well, then, tell me the whole story as briefly as 
you can, just as it is,” said Molitor, trying to en- 
courage the man. 

“ Well, then, the story is thus : You know, Mr. 
Commissary, what a misfortune it is to have bad 
friends ; they carried me from one drinking shop 
to another, from one beer garden to another, but 
work we never did, for we were all on a strike. At 
last the misery was too great ; the house was empty, 
we had nothing we could pawn any more. I had 


256 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


not a penny left to buy bread. Just then somebody 
says : * They want workmen in Greenough.’ My 
wife heard this, and said : ‘ To-morrow you march 
out to Greenough.’ You know the way to Green- 
ough goes through Seaton, along the turnpike. 
Well, I did not get off till after dinner; it was the 
ninth' of February, and a heavy snow was falling. 
The road was slippery and it took one three good 
hours to get to Greenough. After I inquired, they 
told me all the work that there was had been given 
away ; hundreds had been there before me, all starv- 
ing, and nobody cared for me. Well, I could not 
die of hunger; so I went into the tavern. My good 
wife had given me the last piece of money she had, 
and told me : ‘ When you get work, you may open 
this and drink a glass as soon as you have gotten 
work to do !’ Well, 1 was desperate ; 1 did not care. 
There were some fifty men there, all had come to 
get work ; like myself, all were reduced to their last 
penny and in a pretty savage temper. You ought 
to have heard them, how they cursed and swore. 
However, they were not as bad as they talked. 
When they found that I had not had a morsel to eat 
or a dram to drink since the day before, one gave 
me a loaf and the other a glass of liquor, and a third 
a drink of beer, and when I chanced to look at the 
big clock over the door, it was ten o’clock and 
pitch dark outdoors. 1 should have liked to stay in 
Greenough, but the landlord could not keep fifty 
men or more ; besides, we had talked pretty loud, 


The TeLl-tale watch. 




and he was afraid we might set fire to his house in 
our wild excitement. 

“ I started on my way home, but such a march ! 
Never in my life can I forget that ! Half drunk as 
1 was, I always made two steps forward and one 
step back, so that it was long after midnight when I 
at last reached Seaton. I was dead beat, I could 
not go any further. On the street I saw no place to 
shelter me ; it was out of question to lie down in the 
snow and slush, and cover I had none. Suddenly I 
remembered that I had been at work here in the 
summer on a new building in that very street. I 
knew every nook and corner of the structure and 
went straight to it, walking as fast as 1 could to 
escape the falling snow. But the brandy must have 
gotten in my head, for just as I reached the plank 
fence around the cellar opening I fell down. 

The Commissary looked up, greatly surprised. 
“You say, just in front of the fence, and there you 
lay stretched out at full length ?” he asked eagerly. 

Tibbeck nodded vehemently. 

“ Yes, indeed !” was his reply. “After a good 
deal of wriggling I stretched myself out, but I was 
horribly uncomfortable.” 

“ What !” exclaimed Molitor. “ You lay down 
there on that rough and uneven surface and fell 
asleep? Well, that explains at least the notion we 
had formed of a fight between the murderer and his 
victim ! And did you remain long in that uncom- 
fortable position ?” he turned, asking Tibbeck. 

The man shook his head. 


258 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ No, fortunately 1 soon came to myself again, for 
during the night an infernal cold had set in,” he 
replied. “The rain and the snow had made me 
pretty sober again. Half asleep, I pushed a few 
planks of the fence aside and crept behind it, to 
lie down there in greater safety and comfort. It 
was not very nice, but so much better than outside, 
where wind and rain blew into my face, and I soon 
fell asleep.” 

“ And is all this a part >of your wonderful story?” 
asked the Commissary, who became impatient. 
“You surely mean the same new building in which 
on the next morning Mr. Wigan’s body was dis- 
covered ?” 

“ Great Heavens ! Of course I mean it,” replied 
the joiner piteously. “ I was lying there, I tell you, 
and dreaming, when suddenly a loud voice roused 
me. At first all was confusion in my head, but 
when I next heard a scolding voice close by me, I 
started, fully aroused now, and listened: ‘You 
wretch, you do not deserve to be the brother of a 
human being! You are a scoundrel — worse than 
Cain! You have stolen the happiness of my life 
and enriched yourself with the poor man’s lamb ! 
You are too contemptible for me to touch you, but 
you shall feel my cane !’ cried a deep, fearfully 
excited voice, and then I heard it whistle through 
the air : once, twice, thrice.’ ‘ That hit him in the 
face !’ I said to myself. 

“ Then I heard the other man cry out ; his voice 
was rather high. Then there was some noise, and 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


259 


as I was trying to raise myself against the fence, a 
man suddenly knocked against me and fell backwards 
over me. A lantern was standing nearby, and 1 
could well enough see what was the row. The two 
men had evidently quarreled ; the one who nearly 
upset me, had been beaten in the face, for I saw how 
he held both his hands before his eyes and fell 
blindly over me. The blow must have been tre- 
mendous ; it deprived him of sight and hearing, and 
the unfortunate man fell first against the opening that 
was to be a window, lost his balance, and then, with 
a heart-rending cry, he tumbled backwards into the 
deep cellar.” 

“ Why, that is fearful !” said the Commissary, 
looking sharply at Tibbeck. “If I understand you 
right, however, the whole affair was so terrible only 
because you were crouching down and the falling 
man lost his hold and fell through the open window 
into the cellar ?” 

“ Yes, so it was, exactly so!” affirmed the man. 

“ But consider. Might not the other man have 
given the dead man such a violent push that he fell 
with great force against you ? That would make it 
still more plausible, I should think.” 

The man shook his head, as he replied : 

“ No, Mr. Commissary, drunk as I was with sleep, 
I saw it all very distinctly. The man was fully three 
feet from the other. The unfortunate man was afraid 
— that made him jump back so readily. The whole 
thing, moreover, was the work of an instant. It 


260 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


takes me longer to tell it than it took to happen. But 
I still hear the thump, thump, as the body fell — it 
went to my heart, I tell you, Mr. Commissary— and 
then, of a sudden, all was perfectly still.” 

“Goon! Go on!” said Mr. Molitor anxiously, 
excited and looking into the visitor’s eyes as if he 
meant to read the story there. 

“ Well, there it is now,” said Tibbeck, casting 
down his eyes. “ If I had but let the thing alone, 1 
would not be compelled to tell you now what a 
blackguard I am. At first I was petrified with hor- 
ror — think of it, to be roused from your sleep by 
such an accident, and then to witness such a thing! 
I have a heart like other men, sir. First I tried to 
feel my way along the fence, to get into the street, 
and to look for the other man ; but he was already 
far away, and I only heard him lustily cry, ‘ Watch- 
man ! Watchman !’ He called perhaps twenty times, 
till the cry became so distant, 1 could hear it no 
longer. What was 1 to do? I went back to the 
window and listened, but everything was perfectly 
still — only now and then I thought I heard a faint 
rattle of a voice. Then I heard one word : ‘ Revenge !’ 
if 1 understood it right. That was the word, I 
am sure, which the dying man faintly uttered. Mr. 
Commissary, that faint sound touched my heart. In 
an instant I was down where the man lay. I knew 
every step in the new house, where I had been at 
work myself for many months. I also had matches, 
and with their aid I made my way step by step 
about the cellar. To be sure! there he lay, a man, 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


261 


and a horrid sight it was! I tell you, Mr. Commis- 
sary, I am not generally a coward and do not readily 
shed tears and howl, but when I saw this, my heart 
nearly stopped beating. All about the place was 
covered with blood, and then this nice-looking 
gentleman 1 As I was looking around thus, the light 
of a match falls upon a heavy gold watch-chain, 
that shone and glittered on his waistcoat. Then 
the devil got hold of me and whispered to me that 
the dead man had no longer any use for his watch 
and chain, while we would be happy for life if we 
had them. 

“ While I was still standing there and reflecting, 
I heard steps above me and a rough voice calling 
out: ‘ Has anybody fallen in here ?’ I had no matches 
left, and thus neither 1 nor the dead body could be 
seen from above. Oh 1 if I had then called out, as 
my first impulse was 1 But, unfortunately, Satan 
held my tongue, and I kept as quiet as a mouse, not 
daring even to breathe, lest the watchman in the 
street should find me out. He went back again to 
his post, and soon his steps died away in the dis- 
tance. And now, Mr. Commissary, I must make my 
confession : I became a thief ! I took the dead 
man’s watch, and as my fingers went about looking 
for his pockets, they came across a pocket-book first, 
and then across his porte-monnaie. Mr. Commis- 
sary, I took them both ! It was slow work, and I 
burnt up all of my matches in the search. All of a 
sudden, as I felt about in the dark, the dead man 
was lying on his stomach. This frightened me out 


262 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


of my wits and I ran away, and 1 felt as if the Devil 
himself were riding on my back. Never in my life 
have I had such a run as I made that night — I did 
not recover till I found myself standing under a 
street-lamp and examining the red morocco pocket- 
book. In the porte-monnaie alone there were nearly 
one hundred marks, and in the pocket-book was 
nearly ten times as much money.” 

‘‘You were standing near the street-lamp,” here 
broke in Molitor, after having attentively listened to 
the man, so far, in absolute silence ; “ there you 
examined the papers, and probably some of them 
dropped out of the pocket-book and fell down .?” 

“ That may well have been,” replied Tibbeck, “ for 
I paid no attention ; but I am sure it was none of the 
bigger notes.” 

“ Then you confess having robbed the body of the 
unfortunate banker,” said the official in a very seri- 
ous tone, and unable to banish the expression of 
horror from his features, “ and finally you even 
turned it around.” 

“ 1 did.” 

“ That explains, then, the unnatural position of the 
murdered man,” said the Commissary, thoughtfully. 
“ Well, and what did you do after that?” 

“ I hardly know how I reached home, but I formed 
a plan and to that 1 have adhered. We really ex- 
pected to fall heirs to an uncle, and 1 told my wife 
a falsehood, that the uncle had really died and left 
us our share. I knew I would have to give her 
some of the money ; so I told her I had been at the 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


263 


surrogates and gotten all. 1 gave her about a thou- 
sand marks, but the rest I kept." 

That was on the forenoon of February loth ?" 
inquired Molitor. “ You brought the money home 
and gave your wife a part — but how about the 
watch and the pocket-book ?" 

I did not care to let my wife see them, because 
the watch had the name of the banker engraved on 
the case and his monogram was embroidered on the 
pocket-book, as I noticed next morning. First I had 
hid them in the straw of some of our beds ; but then 
I took them out and concealed them in a secret 
compartment of my bureau. I thought my wife 
never knew that; but it seems she found it out, and 
saw me even put something into it." 

And why did you not try to sell your watch ?" 

“Yes, I thought of it ; but then, you see, it was 
described in the newspapers most minutely, and was 
such a very costly thing in itself — people would 
have wondered and asked how we poor people 
came to have such precious things?" 

“ And with the money you had taken from the 
murdered man you fitted up your new house, I sup- 
pose?" asked the Commissary. 

“Yes, indeed! Great Heavens! If I had only 
remained what I was, a good, honest man," lamented 
Tibbeck again, completely broken down now, and 
crushed by the confession he had made. “ How 
happy we could be now, I and my family at home." 

The Commissary looked at him for some time in 
deep silence. 


264 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


“ You have certainly committed most grievous 
sins,” he said at last, slowly and very solemnly. 
“ But,” he added, in a softer voice and milder man- 
ner, “ I hope the judges will be lenient in consider- 
ation of your open and free confession.” 

He once more paused, plunged into deep medita- 
tion ; then he suddenly asked once more : You say 
you heard outside heavy blows falling, as if some- 
body were beating a person with a club or a stick? 
Did you not think then, that a murder was being 
committed ?” 

“ By no means, Mr. Commissary,” was the prrompt 
reply. “ Did I not tell you that I heard distinctly 
what was spoken? The banker was perfectly con- 
scious, and the light of the street-lamp fell so clearly 
upon him, that I could very clearly see his hat was 
still on his head — it must have fallen off and rolled 
away when he fell into the cellar.” 

‘‘Yes, a gray silk hat was found inside the plank 
fence !” said the Commissary. “ There is little doubt, 
I think, that the terrible calamity was the result of 
unfortunate accidents. The poor banker! ‘ In the 
midst of life we are in death !’ Well, Tibbeck,” he 
added, after a moment, “ I must, of course, send you 
to jail, but you need not weep and wail on that 
account. Your deposition has impressed me very 
favorably, and I hope the Judge of the Higher 
Court, also, will not be too severe with you.” 

The poor fellow’s eyes suddenly filled with tears, 
and he said, piteously : 

“ Ah, Mr. Commissary, it is not for my sake that 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


265 


I grieve— I deserve being shut up in prison till I 
turn black. But you see, sir, there is my poor wife 
and our child ; they have but just begun to see both 
ends meet once more, and lo and behold ! It is all a 
delusion ! And if I only could go out and get 
work — it should not be my fault, if they had not 
plenty to eat and to drink. But if I go to jail again — 
who will provide for them ? If I ever am a free man 
again, I shall most assuredly work as hard as any 
two men, and wife and child shall never know what 
is want again.” 

“ Well, you have very good intentions, my man,” 
replied Molitor. “ Now see that you act up to 
them.” 

Then he sent the man to a cell, and went directly 
to the office of the higher Judge, before whom the 
case would be brought. But he found it locked, and 
when he looked at his watch, he saw, to his surprise, 
that it was nine o’clock, and no chance left him to 
see the Judge before the next day. 

Tibbeck’s confession had relieved him at least of 
one heavy burden that had rested on his mind. 
Although he had to confess that for once all his 
acuteness and often-praised mental powers had only 
led him to take a wrong path, and to pursue in a 
wrong direction, he was yet quite willing to forfeit 
his reputation, if he could but establish the innocence 
of an accused murderer and, perhaps, convince the 
authorities that there had been no real crime com- 
mitted. 

Much elated by these sentiments, Molitor had left 


266 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


the office ; on his way home he had met with Erna 
Wigan and, forming a sudden resolution, he had 
asked her to become his wife. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

Deeply and sincerely repenting, Tibbeck repeated, 
on the next morning, his whole confession before 
the Judge, in almost the same words he had used 
before the Commissary. On the other hand, the 
Judge was much less lenient and ready to admit the 
man’s penitence, than Molitor had been. At first, 
he thought he noticed inconsistencies in the man’s 
various statements, and then he began to suspect 
that he admitted so much only in order to avoid 
more serious complications. He cross-examined 
him at great length, but the prisoner remained 
faithful to the truth, and the Judge finally thought 
better of him. As a matter of course, however, the 
prisoner had to return to his cell, and now the 
American was once more sent for. 

“ Mr. Grover,” he began, in a more kindly and 
courteous tone than he had heretofore used,“ I have 
sent for you once more, in order to inform you that 
certain inquiries have of late resulted in evidence, 
which, under certain circumstances, may lead to 
your being set free. But before I am able to do 
anything for you in that direction, I must once 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


26T 


more insist upon being told the truth and the whole 
truth. You have never yet fully established your 
identity.” 

Molitor who, at the Judge’s request, had remained 
present at this decisive interview, had so far kept 
modestly in the background ; now he advanced and 
with a courteous gesture of the hand towards the 
Judge, he said : 

“ Will 3'our Honor permit me to ask this gentle- 
man a few questions?” 

The Judge looked up astonished, but he consented 
at once by a nod of the head. 

“Then I beg leave to inform Mr. Grover that, 
according to our German law, no man can be held 
responsible for the crime of murder if, since the last 
judicial action in the prosecution,twenty years have 
elapsed. The last judicial act in the case called 
Kunert’s Murder, took place on June 29th, 1869 — 
to-day is the fourteenth July, 1889; consequently 
more than twenty years have elapsed since that day, 
and even a well-known or self-confessed murderer 
could not be prosecuted any longer for the crime 
mentioned.” 

A strange fire began to shine in the eyes of the 
mysterious American, and with a slightly trembling 
voice he asked : 

“ Is this really so? Is it not perhaps a new pitfall 
to make me — ?” 

Here he suddenly stopped as if afraid of having 
said too much. 

“ You forget, sir, that you are dealing with Ger- 


268 THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 

man officers of the law/’ said the Judge sternly, see- 
ing now what Mr. Molitor was trying to ascertain. 

The American had evidently a short struggle to 
endure in his heart. Then he suddenly advanced, 
and drawing himself up to his whole length, he 
said resolutely : 

I am Johannes Wigan !” 

For a moment all was silent in the room. Then a 
pleased smile passed over Molitor’s features, and 
the young man, advancing, said with delight: 

Will your Honor permit me to repay Mr. 
Grover’s revelation by making another revelation of 
interest to him? My researches, most carefully and 
indefatigably carried on, have finally established 
the fact that the man Kunert was not murdered, 
but killed by this present Johannes Wigan in self- 
defense. We have a witness, free from all objection 
and of good repute, who was present at the occur- 
rence, and is at all times ready to testify on oath the 
facts as I have stated.” 

** Ada ! No one but Ada can do that !” stam- 
mered the American, and a sunny smile illumined 
his careworn features. “ Ah ! how different all 
would have been, if she had not kept silent!” 

“ She had to be silent,” replied the Commissary, 
with deep emotion. “ She could not do otherwise 
— for did not she, and did not everybody, believe 
that Johannes Wigan was dead, had perished in a 
railway disaster? But every year of her life she 
faithfully made a pilgrimage to that grave, in a 
quiet, unknown village, for out of the world, and 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


269 


prayed there for him who, she believed, was there 
resting under the green grass.’' 

“Ada! Ada I That is like you!” cried Grover, 
drawing a deep breath, as if relieved of a grievous 
burden ; “ that is like you 1 Great God ! What 
cursed villainy has been practised against us ! Oh 1 
the infamous scoundrel !’’ A few seconds he stood 
thus, in silent rage. Then he said resolutely : 
“ Now you shall have the truth and the whole 
truth I For now I see I need spare no one, and, if 
Your Honor will permit me, I shall state fully all 
that occurred on that occasion.” 

The Judge assented. 

“ I think we have requested such a favor for 
many months,” he added, and courteously invited 
his prisoner to be seated. 

When this was done, the American passed his 
hand over his brow and began his recital : 

“ God is my witness, that even now I do not 
exactly know how I came to act in that rash and 
so sadly fatal manner,” he declared, after having 
informed his two listeners of his early love for Ade- 
laide. “ But the blows that rained upon my face 
made me mad ; my hand suddenly felt the knife, 
which I always carried in my pocket, between my 
fingers and the next moment the man lay dead at 
my feet. Then somebody seized my hand and 
cried : ‘ Great God ! What have you done! You 

are a murderer! a cursed murderer! You are lost 
in this world and in the world to come !’ Gentle- 
men, it was my brother who uttered these words I 


^70 


l-HE TELL-TALE WATCit. 


“ It was only many, many years later, in fact onl}^ 
shortly before I was arrested, that there arose in 
my mind a suspicion. What had at first only 
dawned upon me, soon became certainty : He had 
committed a most damnable piece of villainy, for he 
had purposely himself conducted Kunert to the 
place where he knew I met my beloved one. At 
that time, however, I was led to see in him my 
saviour. 1 was beside myself, and blindly obeyed all 
his counsels and suggestions. He was right, I must 
flee instantly, and I did so, fool that I was ! Money 
I had enough and I escaped — as I thought — but 
without seeing Ada, without obtaining my parents’ 
forgiveness. My brother swore the most sacred 
oaths that he would watch over Ada, and tell her 
fully and at once, why I had been compelled thus 
suddenly to escape. He pledged himself in like 
manner to procure for me, and to send me at once, 
her forgiveness, and promised that as soon as 1 had 
secured a new home on the other side of the 
Atlantic, he would bring my beloved to me. Oh, 
the scoundrel ! the unspeakable villain! His black 
heart was triumphant, as he thus got rid of me for- 
ever. 

I spent the first night in a wretched little vil- 
lage, where a new misfortune befell me. The inn 
was small, guests were many, and I had to share 
my bedroom with another man. He was a thief ; 
and during the night he managed to possess himself 
of nearly all my money and my papers, and then 
disappeared. I am told he did not escape Divine 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


271 


justice. Almost penniless, I reached Hamburg. I 
engaged as a fireman on board a steamer, and under 
another name, of course, I safely reached America. 
I found it more difficult to earn my daily bread than 
I had hoped; nevertheless, I wrote instantly to my 
brother, inquiring after Ada. It was a long time 
before I received an answer.” 

Johannes Wigan sighed deeply. He was evi- 
dently powerfully excited and with difficulty con- 
strained himself. 

“ The man who called himself my brother, and to 
whom 1 was devotedly attached, cheated me out.of 
my life’s happiness. He wrote me that the shock 
had been too much for Ada; she had succumbed to 
the blow and to the ravages of a terrible fever. He 
described minutely how she had died with my name 
on her lips. The rascal! The scoundrel! He 
himself had begun to look at my beloved with sin- 
ful, covetous eyes ; he had used his devilish cunning 
with such supreme skill, and aided by chance, man- 
aged to separate us for life. Ada mourned me as 
dead ; I wept for her likewise. She who had been 
my own life’s sun and sole hope being dead, 1 cared 
not to live any longer myself, and was very near 
taking my own life. 

“ To protect myself against such sinful thoughts, 
I threw myself headlong into the whirlpool of life, 
such as only the new world can offer to the new- 
comer. I was fortunate in well-nigh all 1 undertook, 
and a few years sufficed to give me a handsome 
fortune. But what was money to me? John 


272 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


Grover, as I had called myself when I landed a 
fugitive on these shores, might be respected, hon- 
ored and envied — the wound in his heart had never 
healed. Year followed year and I failed in the one 
great purpose of my life. I could not forget. At 
last, a very rich man, and henceforth independent, 
I could resist the temptation no longer. I made 
myself known to my brother, asking his forgiveness 
for my long silence. The answer, which came after 
a long interval, ought to have made me suspicious. 
It contained a flood of reproaches — would I, a vile 
murderer, come and ruin him and his honorable fam- 
ily ? He told me that I had been publicly described 
as an escaped murderer, and a reward offered for 
my capture, and that I would be arrested and tried 
for murder as soon as I should put my foot on Ger- 
man soil. 

“ I believed him. Nevertheless, the desire to see 
my native land, to stand by the grave of her w^ho 
still was dearest to me, though but a memory now, 
and even the longing to embrace my brother once 
more, and to thank him for his goodness to me and 
to Ada — all these were too strong, and I resolved to 
risk all. Of course, 1 informed my brother of my 
intentions. He said in reply that, with his vast 
correspondence, letters were easily lost, and besides, 
as the United States extradited murderers, it was 
of the utmost importance to use the very greatest 
precaution in our correspondence. He therefore 
proposed to send only letters marked ‘ To be 
called for,’ and, in order to make it perfectly sure 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


273 


that they should not fall into wrong hands, to insert 
a previous notice that a letter might be expected, 
on my side in the New York Herald, on his side in 
the Kolnische Zeitung, This was done. 

“ For a long time I hesitated. Should I gratify my 
brother and keep away from Germany — for I still 
felt indebted to him, and thought I owed his family 
and his friends some consideration. Great God ! I 
little imagined who had in the meantime become 
his wife ! At last I could resist my longing no 
more, and, contrary to my brother’s wishes, I came 
to Europe. 

“ The rest you know pretty well,” the prisoner 
continued after a pause, during which he repeatedly 
passed his hand over his brow. I have only to add 
that, after my arrival here, I discovered my brother’s 
villainy. A glance sufficed to reveal his whole game 
to me. I found him the husband of my dearly 
beloved, my betrothed ! Of course our meeting 
was a stormy one. I must premise that I had been 
on the point of returning to the United States, for 
Germany was no longer bearable to me, now that 
Ada was his. Had he not taken me, with tears in 
abundance, to a simple tombstone on which ‘Ada’ 
was engraved, telling me that there she rested for- 
ever ? At the same time he had, with diabolical cun- 
ning, succeeded in renewing my fears, that I might 
still be held responsible for the rash act committed 
in my youth. 

“ But just at that time 1 met one day in the park 
a carriage with two ladies, evidently mother and 


274 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


daughter. I thought I was the victim of a strange 
delusion as 1 looked at the younger of the two ; she 
was the image of my Ada ! Her features had never 
ceased to live in my heart, and here she was sud- 
denly before me in flesh and blood ! 1 could barely 

glance next at the older of the ladies and I felt 
thunder-struck. Here was Ada, my Ada, not dead 
and buried, but alive !” 

“ What can I say ?” he added with a sigh from the 
depths of his heart. “ I found out what an accom- 
plished hypocrite my brother was ; I ascertained 
that only a few years after my presumed death he 
had persuaded Ada to marry him. Then came the 
stormy meeting to which I alluded.” 

“ When did it take place ?” asked the Judge. 
“ Was is not on the day on which your brother call- 
ed on you at your hotel and you were locked up in 
the same room for some hours ?” 

“ By no means! On that day our interview was 
even of a friendly nature. We spoke of nothing but 
the past, and only locked the doors because in a hotel 
there are always curious ears about that love to 
listen to others.” 

“ You spoke of a discovery you made in the City 
Park, when was that ?” Molitor interposed here. 

“Two days before I was arrested,” was the answer. 

“ That agrees with the portiers deposition, who 
stated that he had seen you come home from the 
Park, in a highly excited state,” confirmed the Com- 
missary. 

“ What happened next?” inquired Judge Feilen. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


275 

The American cast down his eyes, frowning 
fiercely. 

“ I wrote to my brother, after 1 had made sure of 
his treason, a few words only — in fact, if I remember 
right, it was nothing but the word : “ Blackguard !” 
three times repeated. Contrary to my habit I had 
left the hotel on that day only in the afternoon ; my 
brother called during my absence, perhaps to justify 
himself, perhaps to induce me with his honeyed 
speeches to leave Germany and to return to my new 
home. He evidently was afraid I might call on my 
darling and expose him in all his black villainy. This 
was why he insisted upon seeing me. I was induced 
to consent to that secret meeting at his villa in 
Seaton ; where we were, of course, secure against 
any intrusion." 

“And what happened at this interview? Was 
your brother there before you?" asked the Judge. 

“Yes, indeed!" answered the American. “He 
was waiting for me at the outer garden-gate. We 
exchanged greetings coolly enough, and he told me 
that he had chosen his Villa for our meeting, because 
here we were less likely to be interrupted. Then 
we went through the little front garden to the 
house, and he took me into a room which was 
lighted ; we sat down at a table, one facing the 
other. He offered me a cigar, but 1 declined, and at 
once overwhelmed -him with a flood of reproaches. 
I have to confess that I became very violent, for I 
am accustomed to call a spade a spade ; but I surely 
had ground to be indignant. Put yourself in my 


276 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


place, gentlemen. A whole long life I had lost ! 
Twenty years 1 had mourned a loved one, whom I 
thought dead ; not a morning had risen on which I 
had not, with my mind's eye, seen the lost one ; no 
evening had gone but I had added Ada to those I 
prayed for — and now it turned out that all my ter- 
rible suffering had been caused by the villainy of a 
man, whom I had to call brother! And she — she 
must have suffered as much as I had suffered. For 
I know her heart, 1 know 4iow true it is ; she was 
attached to me with a love which is without break 
or end, and goes far beyond the grave. 

Now this man — my brother ! — sat facing me, with 
his cold smile on his lips and his airy, supercilious look 
in his eyes, staring at me, whom he had robbed of 
twenty years of existence, of my whole life’s happi- 
ness, replying to my accusation with a cold-blooded 
smile. He did not even endeavor to clear himself 
of the charges. And I knew that it was not even 
Love which had made him steal my heart’s idol. I 
had already learnt that his married life was not a 
happy one, and now' he had the effrontery to tell 
me that very soon after his marriage he had been 
cured, as he called it, of his foolish passion. Ada 
had found him out ; she had discovered that he had 
betrayed both of us, and had turned from him with 
contempt. 

“I became enraged and little w^as wanting to 
bring matters to a fateful crisis. He insisted upon my 
being compelled to make a choice : to be silent and 
to leave at once, or to wander into the Penitentiary. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 




With his cold, diabolical smile, he explained to me 
that it was in his power to crush me if I should dare 
to expose him, as a liar, before his wife. I was to 
go away, with bleeding heart, without seeing Ada, — 
whom I love with undiminished fervor, — without 
having explained to her why and in what manner 
they had succeeded in separating us. 

Utter disgust seized me ; 1 could not bear to be 
any longer in company with the man whom the 
same mother had nursed in childhood; I wanted to 
go, and turned my back upon him. I feel it now how 
I hurried through the little garden, how the blood 
rushed in hot currents to my head, and wrath had 
made me drunk. All of a sudden he was once more 
at my side ; he would not leave me, for fear I might 
after all expose him, and he poured forth abomina- 
ble threats : the brother vowed he would surrender 
the brother to the Criminal Courts for a crime 
which he had himself instigated. I tore myself 
from him and we got a little apart in the street. 

“ Then he suddenly coupled the name of her 
whom I worship like a saint, in a wretched, unbear- 
able manner; he dared to say that no doubt I had 
already, behind his back, entered into a conspiracy 
with her, and this meeting was all a plot to get the 
better of him. Then I lost all control over myself ; 
my rage got the better of myself ; I raised my cane 
and struck him once, twice ! Then he showed his 
trickish, wicked character ; he called out as if 
wounded unto death, and in insane terror ran against 
that new building nearly opposite his villa,' before 


278 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


which we had been standing. I turned from him 
with utter disgust and walked on. At the same 
time — for not two seconds could have passed — I 
heard a low, subdued outcry, and instantly after it 
a crashing. I turned back, but although there was 
a lantern dimly burning on the fence, I could dis- 
tinguish nothing. He had evidently stumbled and 
fallen in same way behind the plank-fence. I took 
it for granted that he had met with some accident, 
but I was still too infuriated to creep down and see 
what had happened. I was content to hurry on in 
order to summon the watchman. God is my wit- 
ness, if I had suspected what had happened, 
although he was my deadl}'^ enemy, the destroyer 
of my life’s happiness, I would have hastened to his 
assistance. 1 little suspected that all assistance 
would then already have been unavailing! 

“ Now you know everything. If I am guilty, 
you will proceed according to your laws. But as 
truly as I believe 1 am an honest man, this is the 
truth and the whole truth.” 

The statement of the American had made a deep 
and lasting impression upon both the Judge and 
Molitor. The last doubt that might have lingered 
after Tibbeck’s confession had vanished. The 
Judge reflected a moment ; then he rose, and 
approaching the American, he said : 

I believe your words and, although I cannot 
approve of your action on that night, I can at least 
understand it. But there are certain formalities to be 
observed. Are you prepared to prove in any way 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


279 


the peculiar conduct of your brother, and at the 
same time show that you were so terribly excited, 
at that critical moment, as to raise your cane 
against your own brother?” 

The American’s straightforward eyes looked at 
the Judge with perfect candor as he said : 

“Yes, I can. I see now I ought to have spoken 
sooner. But the fear of being really sent to prison 
for life, and thus to cause ineffable grief to her 
whom I still love, kept me back. You have con- 
fiscated my trunk, I believe ?” 

“Yes,” replied Molitor. “ All the contents have 
been entered on our books and are in safe-keeping.” 

“ And the papers in the secret compartment?” 

“What! A secret compartment? We have looked 
for one, but I must confess we have not found one.” 

A slight almost imperceptible smile curled the 
prisoner’s lips. 

“It is not easily found,” he said. “Well, there 
you will find all my brother’s letters, from the first 
lying letter, in which he informed me of my Ada’s 
death, and came near killing me also. A vague 
apprehension, which I could never explain to my- 
self, prompted me to keep every one of these letters'. 
They will show you his treachery better than any 
words of mine can do.” 

“ But were you really content to beat the unfor- 
tunate man — did you not pursue him on the other 
side of the fence ?” 

“ No. As truly as God may help me in my last 


280 


THE TELL-TAIiE WATCH. 


hour,” replied Johannes Wigan, and calmly met the 
searching eye of the Judge. 

“ This alters the case very essentially. Instead of 
a terrible crime, which we have taken for granted 
during all these months, the event is a mere acci- 
dent, much to be lamented, but involving no crimi- 
nal guilt. I cannot restore you to liberty, because 
all the papers have been sent to the Higher Court ; 
but I shall make my report of to-day’s session this 
evening, and our friend, the Commissary will, I am 
sure, not cause any delay in the proceedings.” 

A long, deep drawn sigh, rose from the prisoner’s 
heart, as he looked at the Judge with doubting eyes. 

“ Do you mean that I may hope to be restored to 
freedom ; that 1 may enjoy life once more?” 

The tall, strong man began to tremble ; he sank 
into the nearest chair. Thus he remained, motion- 
less, for some time. Molitor felt deep compassion 
for the man ; he went up to him, seized both his 
hands, and said : 

‘'Take courage, Mr. Wigan. What you may have 
done contrary to the laws of God and of Man, you 
have amply expiated by your months of captivity. 
Look hopefully to the Future, to compensate you 
for all you have endured. I am engaged to marry 
Mrs. Wigan’s only daughter, and if you will permit 
me, I can be the mediator between you and that 
excellent, sorely-tried lady.” 

Then Johannes Wigan’s eyes suddenly shone with 
almost dazzling brilliancy ; he jumped up and pas- 
sionately pressing the young man’s hands, he said : 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


281 


“ I have your word for it. I shall see my Ada 
again. My Ada ! that is indeed bliss. I can hardly 
conceive the happiness.” 

The Judge was deeply touched by the man’s 
frank enjoyment of hopes revived ; he proceeded at 
once to fulfill the conditions required in such cases, 
and early the next morning the papers were all 
ready and dispatched. The curious chain of cir- 
cumstances which had led to the unintentional 
calamity, was looked upon by all who knew the 
remarkable case, as the punishment which Provi- 
dence had inflicted upon the infamous brother. 

At the same time, the secret compartment in the 
American’s trunk was opened in his presence, and 
found to contain, as he had stated, all the letters 
written by his brother. Even the very first hastily 
written note, in which he informed Johannes of his 
Ada’s death, caused by intense grief over the crime 
he had committed, was not missing. The whole 
tissue of falsehoods, woven to keep the brother 
away from his native land and his home, was 
exposed, and not a doubt was left of his treachery 
and villainy. 

These results, combined with the mechanic’s 
deposition under oath, established the innocence of 
the American, and two days later he was free. The 
Commissary had claimed the privilege of accom- 
panying the man, — whom he had so long firmly 
believed a criminal and a most dangerous criminal, 
— on his progress from prison to freedom. But this 


282 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


was not his only mission, he had another duty to 
fulfill which was important. 

Rolf Molitor had, the day before, with great cau- 
tion, and proceeding very slowly, informed the 
sorely-tried lady of the marvelous surprise in store 
for her. At first the poor, feeble woman had incred- 
ulously shaken her head upon hearing the wonderful 
story. The thought that he whom she had mourned 
so many years, and to whose grave she had made 
her annual pilgrimage as to a sacred spot, should 
still be on earth, and might possibly meet her in 
flesh and blood, was so overwhelming, that she could 
not realize the fact. At the same time her nervous 
system was so painfully overwrought, that impover- 
ished as her blood was, the physician feared the 
worst. He told the daughter, as he had already 
informed the Commissary, that great joy might as 
readily kill as cure, and that these hours would cer- 
tainly form a crisis in the destiny of the dear lady. 

When at last Johannes Wigan himself, led by the 
Commissary of Police, entered the silent little room, 
when he rapidly advanced toward the frail form 
which was shrinking into a corner of the small sofa, 
and now looked up at him with frightened, uncer- 
tain glances, he could at first see nothing clearly — 
the tears obscured his eyes. Silently he sank upon 
his knees before the beloved of his youth, and hold- 
ing both her hands closely pressed to his heart, he 
could only cry out : 

“ Ada ! My Ada 

Then deep silence reigned for a while. 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


283 


The young people had preferred in all quietness to 
withdraw unnoticed, so as to leave the two sufferers 
perfectly free to tell each other what they had en- 
dured. Hour after hour passed, till at last Johannes 
Wigan came out of the room and spoke to Erna. 
She had, in the meantime, learned from the lips of 
her lover, in most carefully chosen words and for- 
bearing language, what could no longer remain con- 
cealed from her. But the newly-found uncle left her 
no time for reflection ; deeply moved and warmly 
interested, he held her affectionately in his arms, and 
said : 

“ Not a word of the Past, my dear, sweet child !” 
touching her forehead with a loving kiss. “You are 
her child, and that alone fills my heart with ineffable 
love for you. Call me father, for I shall be your 
father, not in name only, but in the spirit and in 
truth. In such great happiness as God has be- 
stowed upon us all, hatred is silenced and all pas- 
sions are put to rest.” 


The famous murder-case, so complicated, appar- 
ently, and, like most of the genuine causes cd^bres so 
simple, when once unravelled, furnished food for 
talk to the inhabitants of the great Imperial city for 
a long time. Richard Dunsing and the dishonest 
head clerk, Slummer, were indicted and tried. 
Even in the Court and in the presence of the Judge, 
they pursued each other with grim hatred, trying to 
injure the one the other as much as they could. 
Thus it came that the sentence was severe, and 


284 


THE TELL-TALE WATCH. 


they were likely to spend the rest of their lives in 
the Penitentiary. Tibbeck escaped more leniently. 
His penitent confession, made at the happy moment 
when all was at stake, and the strong temptation 
to which he had succumbed when starving, were 
taken into account, and a year later he was restored 
to his family. 

Johannes Wigan had, in the meantime, taken great 
delight in providing for Tibbeck’s poor wife and 
daughter, so that, when he returned a free man 
once more, he found them installed in a nice, com- 
fortable house, already filled with tenants. His 
daughter had recently married her old admirer, 
who kept a restaurant in the same building. 

A year later, but a few weeks after he had made 
Erna his happy, blooming bride, Molitor was made 
Counselor in the Department, and his superiors 
predict a brilliant career for the young man. 

Far from the din and turmoil of the Imperial 
city, at a place where gigantic spruces and broad- 
branching beeches afford delightful shade, and a 
merry little brook purls cheerily over rock and 
root, a lovely villa looks from an eminence down 
upon the cosy, little valley. Here another happy 
couple enjoy life in peace and quiet retirement. 


THE END. 


/ ^ 


‘‘A Masterpiece of Fiction."— Rundschau. 

THE CHILD OF THE PARISH. 


BY 

MARIE VON EBNER-ESCHENBACH. 

Author of Beyond Atonements 


TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY MAJtY A. ROBINSON. 


12mo. 835 Pag-es. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 
Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


The author of this novel stands in the highest rank of living 
woman-writers in Germany. Her works are very popular and 
have earned the highest praise of critical readers. The Child 
of the Parish ” is a powerful original story, strong in delineation 
of character, healthy in tone and artistic in local coloring, some- 
what in the style of “Oliver Twist,” by Charles Dickens, and 
“No Relations,” by Hector Malot. The scene is laid in a Mo- 
ravian village, and both the scenery and the inhabitants are drawn 
with the fidelity of an old Dutch picture. The hero who grows 
up under the worst influences, unjustly treated, despised and trod- 
den under foot by all except the eccentric old schoolmaster, by 
sheer force of character and through love of his sister develops 
into a strong, capable, honorable man. It is seldom that we can 
offer our readers such a treat as is in store for them in this novel. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


LOVE IS LORD OF ALL; 

OR, 

NEIGHBORING STEPPES, 
a Nooti. 


ADAPTED FROM THE GERMAN 

. BY MARY J. SAFFORD, 

Translator of “ Wife and Woman f Little Heather-Blossom f 
True Daughter of Hartensteinf etc»f etc, 

WITS JLLUBTJtATIONa BY F, A. CABTES. 


12mo. 850 Paffea, Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 60 Cen^ 


The second title of this story, ** Neighboring Steppes,” indi- 
cates the scene of the story, which is adjoining estates on the 
great plains of Poland. The heir of a ruined and dissipated 
nobleman falls in love with the daughter of a rich Jew who has 
bought one of the estates of the family. The beautiful character 
of the Jewess and the heroism of the young baron are in refresh- 
ing contrast to the narrow pride and contemptible conduct of 
those who endeavor to break off their intimacy. It is a surpass- 
ingly interesting sketch of foreign life made familiar by the action 
of human passions which are the same the world over. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, post- 
paid, on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


A New American NoveL 


TRANSGRESSING THE LAW. 


BY 

CAPT. FREDERICK WHITTAKER, 

Author of The Great Kenton Feudf Bel Rubio f etc. 


WITH ILLU8TBATI0N8 BY WABBEN B. BAVIB. 


12mo. 800 Fagres. Handsomely Bound in Clotlu Price, $1.00. 
Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


This novel has a strong and interesting plot. It turns upon the 
false imprisonment of an artist who has eloped with the daughter 
of a millionaire, and its interest is artfully heightened and varied 
by the discovery of an ancient treasure in Peru. The story is told 
in a lively and engaging style which catches hold of the reader’s at- 
tention and sustains the interest. The story is admirably adapted 
to beguile the tedium of a railway journey, as it is full of realistic 
incidents, and there is something interesting going on in it all the 
time. Captain Whittaker belongs to the same school of novelists 
as Sir Walter Scott. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


A Lively Story of Adventure in Modem Egypt 


MYNHEER JOE. 


BY 

ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE, 

Author of Doctor Jackf etc. 


1LLV8TRATED BY H, M. EATON AND H, O. EDWARDS. 


12mo. 300 Paeres. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Pricey $1.00. 
Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


This is a story of a Yankee detective and newspaper corre- 
spondent in Egypt. The principal incidents of the story occur 
in Cairo. The hero participates in General Gordon’s gallant de- 
fense of Khartoom and brings back news of Gordon’s death. 
Naturally, he falls in love with a livefy Western girl who is visit- 
ing Egypt with her father, who has made his fortune in a boom 
and is seeing the world. The story is full of lively incidents, it 
has a fresh, breezy atmosphere and is a capital book for a railway 
journey and summer reading in the country. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


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Andersen. Cloth, $1.00; paper, 50 cts. 

39. -PAOLI, THE WARRIOR BISHOP, 

or The Fall of the Christians. By W. 
C. Kitchin. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

40. -UNDER A CLOUD. By Jean Kate 

Ludlum. Cloth, $1.00; paper, 50 cts. 

41. — WIFE AND WOMAN. Translated 

from the German by Mary J. fcfatford. 
Cloth, $1.00; paper, 50 cts. 

42. -AN INSIGNIFICANT WOMAN. 

Translated from the German of W. 
Heimburg, by Mary Stuart Smith. 
Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

43. -THE CARLETONS. By Robert Grant. 

Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

44. -M A D E M 0 1 S E I. LE DESROCHES. 

-Translated from the French of Andre 
Theuriet, by Meta De Vere. Cloth, $1.00 ; 
paper, 50 cts. 

45. — THE BEADS OP TASMER. By 

Amelia E. Barr. Cloth, $1.25 ; paper, 
50 cts. 

46— JOHN WINTHROP’S DEFEAT. By 

Jean Kate Ludlum. Cloth, $1.00; paper, 
50 cts. 

47. — LITTLE HEATHER - BLOSS03I. 

Translated from the German, by Mary J. 
Salford. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

48. -GI.ORIA. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. South- 

worth. Cloth, $1.00; paper, 50 cts. 

49. — DAVID LINDSAY. A sequel to Gloria. 

By Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth. Cloth, 
$1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

50. — THE LITTLE COUNTESS. Trans- 

lated from the German by S. E. Boggs. 
Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

51. -THE CHAUTAUQUANS. By John 

Habberton. Cloth, $1.25 ; paper, 50 cts. 

52. — THE TWO HUSBANDS. By Mrs. 

Lewis. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper 50 cts. 

53. -MRS. BARR’S SHORT STORIES. 

By Amelia E. Barr. Cloth, $1.25 ; paper, 
50 cts. 

64.— WE PARTED AT THE ALTAR. By 

Laura Jean Libbey. Cloth, $1.00; paper, 
50 cts. 

55. -WAS SHE WIFE OR WIDOW ? By 

Malcolm Bell. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

56. -THE COUNTRY DOCTOR. By Hon- 

ore De Balzac. Cloth, $1 .00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

57. -F LORI BEL’S LOVER, or Rival 

Belles. By Laura Jean Libbey. Cloth, 
$1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 


THE CHOICE SERIES— Continued. 

EVERY NUMBER BEAUTIFULLY ILLUSTRATED. 


58. -LIDA C'AMPBELI., or Drama of a 

Lile. By Jean Kate Ludlum. Illustrated, 
(^oth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

59. -EDITH TREVOK’>< SECRET. By 

Mrs Harriet Lewis. Illustrated, Clotli, 
$1.00; paper, 60 cts. 

60. -CECIL ROSSE. A Sequel to “Edith 

Trevor’s Secret.” By Mrs Harriet 
Lewis Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00; paper, 
60 cts. 

61. — LOVE IS LORD OF ALL. From the 

German by Mary J. SaflPord Illustrated. 
Cloth, $1.00, paper, 50 cts 

62. — TREE DAUGIITER OF HARTEN- 

STEIN. From the German by Mary J. 
Safford. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00 . paper, 
50 cts 

63. -ZINA’S AWAKINIi. By Mrs. J. Kent 

Spender Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00 ; pa- 
per. 50 cts 

64. -]flORRIS JULIAN’S WIPE. By Eliza- 

beth Olmis Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00; 
paper, 50 cts. 

65. — Dear ELSIE. From the German by 

Mary J. Safford. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00 
paper, 50 cts. 

66. -THE HUNGARIAN GIRL. From tlH‘ 

German by Mary J. Safford. Illustrated 
Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts 

67. — BEATRIX ROHAN. By Mrs. Harriet 

Lewis. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 
50 ctiS 

68. -A SON OF OLD HARRY. By Albion 

W. Tourgee. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.50 ; 
paper, 50 cts. 

69. -R03IANCE OF TROUVILl.E. Bv 

Brehat. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper 
50 cts . . 

70. -LIFE OF GENERAL JACKSON. By 

Oliver Dyer. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.0()‘; 
paper, 50 cts. 

71. -THE RETURN OF THE O’VIAHON Y. 

By Harold Frederic. Illustrated. Cloth, 
$1.50; paper, 50 cts. 

72. -REUBEN FOREMAN, THE VIL- 

I.AGE BI.ACKSMITH. By Darlev 
Dale Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00; paper, 
60 cts. 

73. -NEVA’S THREE LOVERS By Mrs 

Harriet Lewis. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00; 
paper, 50 cts 

74. —“ EM.” By Mrs E. D. E. N. Southwortli. 

Illustrated. Cloth. $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

75. — EM’S HUSBAND A Sequel to “Em." 

By Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth. Illus- 
trated. Cloth, $1.00 : paper, 50 cts. 

76. -THE HAUNTED HUSBAND. By 

Mrs .Harriet Lewis. Illustrated. Clotli, 
$1.00; paper, 50 cts. 

77. -THE SIBERIAN EXILES. Bv Col. 

Thomas W. Knox. Illustrated. Cloth, 
$2.00; paper, 50 cts. 


78. -THE SPANISH TREASURE. By 

Elizabeth C. Winter. Illustrated. Cloth, 
$1.00; paper, 50 cts. 

79. -THE KING OF HONEY ISIiAND. By 

Maurice Thompson. Illustrated. .Cloth,' 
$1.50; paper, 60 cts. i 

80. -THE MATE OF THE “EASTER 

BELL,” and Other Stories. By Mrs. 
Amelia E. Barr. Illustrated. Cloth, 
$1.25 ; paper, 50 cts. 

81. -THE CHILD OF THE PARISH. By! 

Marie von Ebner-Eschenbaoh Illus-i 
trated. Cloth, $1.00; paper, 50 cts. 

82. -MISS MISCHIEF. By W. Heimburg 

Illustrated. Cloth, $1.50 ; paper, 50 cts. | 

83. -THE HONOR OF A HEART. Trans- 

lated from the German by Mary J. Safford. i 
Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00; paper, 50 cts. I 

84. -TRANSGRESSING THE LAW. By 

Capt. Frederick Whittaker. Illustrateil, 
Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50c 

85. -HEARTS AND CORONETS. By Jane 

G. Fuller. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00; 
paper, 50 cts. 

86. -TRESSILIAN COURT. By Mrs Har- 

riet Lewis. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00; 
paper, 50 cts. 

87. -GUY TRESSILIAN’S FATE. A Se~ 

quel to “Tressiliaii Court.” By Mrs. 
Harriet Lewns Illustrated. Cloth. $1.00; 
paper, 50 cts 

88. -MYNHEER JOE. By St. Get.rge Bath- 

borne. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 
50 cts f < 

89. -THE FROLER CASE. Translated 

from the French by H. O. Cooke. Illu.s. 
trated. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. i 

90. -A PRIESTESS OF COMEDY. Trans 

lated from the German by Elise L. I.a- 1 
throp. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.25 ; paper, i 
60 cts. I 

91. -ALL OR NOTHING. Translated from ' 

the Russian by Meta De Vere. Ulus 
trated. Cloth, $1.25 ; paper. 50 cts. 

92. -A SKELETON IN THE CLOSET. ! 

By Mrs E. D E. N. Southworth. Ulus- j 
trated. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

93. -BKANDON COYLE’S WIFE. A Se- 

quel to “A Skeleton in the Closet.” 

By Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth Ulus- 
trated. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts, 

94. — LOVE. (L’ Envers de 1’ Histoire Coii- 

temporaine.) By Honore de Balzac. 
Illustrated. Cloth. $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

95. -THE TELL-TALE WATCH. From 

the German by Meta De Vere. Illus- 
trated. Cloth, $1,00; paper. 50 cts. 


96 -HETTY ; OR, THE OLD GRUDGE. 

By ,1. H. Connelly. Illnstrated. Cloth, 
$1.00; i)aper, 50 cts. 


on recei 


For sale by all Booksellers and New^tealers, or sent postpaid 
jceipt of price by /L ^ 


ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

PUBLISHERS, 


Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York City. 








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